My Brand Of Heroin
by Sunshine Ana Cloudyday
Summary: Bella is an addict, and Renee forces her to move to Forks in an effort to 'fix' her, but that takes a lot, including Edward's help. ExB
1. Chapter 1

This is basically about how things would have happened if Bella had been an addict. I have this weird fixation with writing about really messed up people. I couldn't tell you why.

The plane was dark. I didn't mind that so much as the fact that it was cold. I was used to Phoenix's warm climate, and the air on the plane seemed to be foreshadowing the weather that was in Forks.

Renee was making me go. She said it would help straighten me out. I guess small towns are supposed to cure wayward teens. I don't know how that works, but she thinks it does. If only she knew the reason that I'd gotten off track. I couldn't tell her though, I just couldn't.

"You need to get yourself worked out." She'd told me at the airport, trying to hide her tears as she gave me one last hug.

So now, I was on the plane, waiting for it to land. I clenched my hands together to stop them from shaking. My head was starting to pound. I reached down and pulled the bottle of sleeping pills out of my purse. I popped one into my mouth, then faded into a deep sleep.

It was an odd dream. There was a boy-one I'd never seen-with golden eyes. He was standing, watching me. He seemed to be expecting me to do something.

"What do you want?"

He shrugged, giving a crooked smile.

I repeated myself. He started talking, in the voice of one of the flight attendants.

"Please buckle your seatbelts. The plane is going to land."

I woke with a start. Outside the windows, it was still dark, but the lights in the cabin were on. People were pulling the seatbelts around themselves. I put mine on, hands shaking again.

The plane landed, and I was glad to get off. I went into the airport, where Charlie was standing there, arms crossed, looking uncomfortably up at the ceiling. He'd already gotten my bag for me. It was standing next to him.

"Hey, Dad." I called. He turned his head my way. I waved, and he smiled at me.

"How're you, Bells?"

We both knew it wasn't a real question, but more of a conversation starter. He knew exactly how I was, because Renee had told him. The only thing he didn't know about were the drugs. Which reminds me…

"I'm going to go to the ladies room, okay?" I asked.

"You know where it is?"

I nodded. I'd come to this airport every summer until I was fourteen, flying in to Forks.

"I'll be right here, okay? Wait-actually, I think I'll go ahead and take this to the car. It's parking lot B. It's the only police cruiser there."

"See ya." I said, making my way through the crowd towards the ladies room.

When I was in a stall, I pulled a small, opaque bottle out of my purse and opened it. Inside were a bunch or small pills. Ecstasy. A previous boyfriend, Derek, had gotten me hooked. He hadn't stuck around, but his influence had.

When I'd gotten my fix and my hands had stopped shaking, I came out of the stall. I didn't look half bad, I thought, looking in the mirror. I giggled. I always felt differently about myself when I was high.

I waltzed out to the cruiser, feeling a little dazed, although that was good. That was how the drugs made me feel. I got in the car, setting my purse on the floor.

"So." Charlie said, pulling out of the parking lot, "I got you a car."

"Thanks. But I was planning on getting myself one-you didn't have to-"

"I got it from Billy Black. He's in a wheelchair now, so it doesn't help him to have a car. But it's in great shape. Very sturdy."

"Oh. Great." Really great. Especially since I was a danger magnet. 'Very sturdy' was exactly what I needed.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, until we reached the house. An old red truck was parked in the driveway.

"I love it!"

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Especially the back. If I kill anyone, I can just keep the bodies in the truck bed." I looked at his face. He was obviously wondering whether he'd underestimated my screwed-up-ness. "Dad, I'm kidding. Chill. I like the truck."

The rest of the evening was spent getting my things crammed into the small dresser of the upstairs bedroom and eating dinner; peanut butter and jelly. After eating that, I'd volunteered to make dinner for the rest of my exile.

I finally fell asleep, exhausted, about midnight. The boy was there again, watching me but never speaking. I yelled, trying to make him say something, but he wouldn't, and in the end, he started running, very fast, away from me.

Author's note: You already know what happens the first day of school, and it's going to be similar, even though she's on drugs, so I'm starting after lunch. Also, assume that she did not see Edward or the Cullens during lunch, because in this scenario, she decided to go do drugs during lunch. Bad Bella

By the time I found Biology, I was late. There was only one open seat, next to a boy with messy golden hair.

"Yes?" The teacher said, as though I was interrupting something highly important.

"I'm Bella Swan, the new student."

"Oh. Just sit there." He gestured to the open seat.

I went and sat down, twenty-something pairs of eyes watching me. The boy next to me glanced at me, his eyes hardening as though they were pieces of coal. He looked like he hated me.

I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. He kept giving me that look, like he was angry with me. I flipped my hair over my shoulder and trained my eyes on the teacher, trying to completely ignore his presence.

Halfway through the class, I glanced at him again. His hand was clenched on the desk, his jaw tight, staring determinedly out the window.

I meant to confront him about it after class, to see what his problem with me was, but he was out of the room as soon as the bell rang, before anyone else. It wasn't worth it for me to try to catch him; I was too clumsy.

I floated through the rest of the day, not listening to a word of my teachers' lessons. A couple of kids introduced themselves to me. Jessica, a curly haired girl who was in my Biology and English classes, turned around during a dull Shakespeare lecture and whispered, "Hey. I'm Jessica."

"Bella."

"I know. Angela told me."

I didn't ask her who Angela was. The teacher was giving us a dirty look. (Never interrupt an English teacher talking about Shakespeare. They think he's God's equal.)

I stepped into the bathroom after the final bell, took a couple pills, and stepped out. Surprisingly, nobody ever noticed what I was taking. I shoved the bottle in my purse and went out to the parking lot.

He was there, unlocking his silver car. The Biology guy.

"Hey!" I called across the parking lot, running towards him before he got the chance to drive away, "Hey, you! I need to talk to you."

He turned around and watched me coming towards him, arms folded across his chest. It was then I realized that he was the guy from my dream. That wasn't possible, was it? I pulled my thoughts together so I could speak to him without gawking at how familiar he looked.

"What's your problem?"

"I don't have one." He informed me.

"Yes you do. You hate me."

"No, I don't." His face was calm, but his hand s, clenched into fists and the look in his black eyes gave him away.

"Why were you glaring at me? I didn't do anything."

"How about this. Take a walk with me, and I'll tell you." He gestured a hand towards the vast expanse of trees that bordered the parking lot.

I wasn't scared. I'd gotten way from plenty of guys trying to mess with me, and I really was curious.

"Fine."

He started into the woods, and I followed, almost running to keep up. Things were starting to haze. Trees shifted from their positions, and even though I knew something was wrong with me, I kept trying to follow him, until he stopped, leaning against a tree, out of sight of the parking lot.

He took a deep breath. "Bella, I really am very sorry for this." He took a step towards me, but before I got the chance to understand what he was talking about, my knees collapsed beneath me, sending me crashing to the ground.

**No, she isn't dead. She just passed out, but Edward's in a really bad situation now.**


	2. THe Cullens

Okay, so I wrote the first chapter, and I was pretty proud of it, which is a really rare thing for me, because I pretty much think everything I write is crap. But then I go on my email, and I've got seventy-two emails, which consist solely of reviews, author alerts, and story alerts. This includes the emails for the nineteenth chapter of Finding Jacob as well, but I still feel happy about all the reviews that this story got and thanks to everyone who reviewed.

I opened my eyes, then closed them quickly. The light shining in my eyes was very bright. I was on a couch; a very soft one, and I heard voices arguing in another room.

"Edward, what did you think you were doing?"

"I don't know." A soft, musical voice muttered.

"If Alice hadn't-"

"I was already taking her out of the woods when Alice came. I wouldn't have done it."

"What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't."

"I think she's awake."

They were talking about me, obviously. I tried to sit up, but I felt limp.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

"No!"

"Fine. You're going to have to tell her something though."

A man came into the room. He looked like he should be on a movie screen, rather than in front of me, holding a stethoscope.

"Hello Bella." He said.

"How did I get here?"

"Edward brought you." He told me, a shadow crossing his face.

"Who?"

"You were talking to him in the woods."

"Oh. What happened?"

"You OD'd."

"I did? But that's never happened before. I-Charlie. You didn't call Charlie, did you?"

He shook his head. "I was about to. We have to get you home. It's seven thirty. He'll be worried."

"He won't be home until eight thirty. So, that guy, Edward. He saved me?"

The man laughed. "I suppose so, if that's how you want to look at it."

He was very pale, much paler than anyone I'd ever seen, except for Edward.

"Can you take me home?" I asked, "Please? Before Charlie gets back. I don't want him to know."

"Bella." He said, putting a hand on my arm, trying to calm me down.

"Don't touch me." I shouted, jerking my arm away from his cold skin. He looked shocked, until I quickly explained, "Sorry. I don't like people touching me." Especially not men, I added in my head.

"I'll take you home. Just-come on. My car's right out front."

My backpack and purse were sitting by the door; he picked them up for me as we went out the door.

"Thanks." I said, while really meaning, 'I can carry my own things, thank you very much.'

"You're welcome." He opened the back door and put my things in the back seat.

"Why'd he bring me here?" I asked, looking up at the huge white house as I got into the car.

"I'm a doctor."

"That's not the whole reason."

"I'm not telling you the whole reason."

I sighed and watched out the window until we arrived at Charlie's house. I dragged my things inside. I was exhausted. It was all I could do to call for a pizza and plop down in a chair with a reading assignment for English.

Charlie came in about five minutes after the pizza got there.

"Hey Bells. How was school?"

I shrugged. "Okay, I guess. There's pizza on the counter."

"Too tired to cook?"

I nodded. Charlie came back in a few minutes later with a plate full of pizza. He kept asking me about my day, my classes, who was in my classes, and so on. Finally, I just told him I was exhausted and wanted to go to sleep.

Once up in my room, I changed into a pair of holey old sweats, then rifled through my purse. The bottle was gone. They had taken my drugs.

The next day at lunch, I spotted Edward the second I got into the cafeteria. I stomped across the room and sat down next to him.

"Edward, I want my things back."

"No."

"Yes."

"No." He growled, glaring at me so intensely that my face felt as if it was melting, but I kept my gaze steady. His eyes were a different color today; gold instead of black.

"Only thugs do drugs." A black-haired girl chirped.

"Yeah, well this _thug_ is going to _slug_ him if she does not get her _drugs._"

"I saved your life." He muttered, "I wasn't going to give you the means to kill yourself."

A big guy with curly hair gave a snort of laughter after the first sentence, which was quieted when the blond next to him elbowed him in the ribs.

"I wouldn't have killed myself."

"You nearly did yesterday. Obviously, you don't know your limits."

"I can take care of myself perfectly well."

"Oh yes. Collapsing in the middle of the woods was a prime example of that."

"Whose fault was it that I was in the woods?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him, my face six inches away from his.

He stood up and walked out of the lunchroom, more quickly and gracefully than I'd ever seen a person walk before.

"First, you spark an argument between Edward and Carlisle," the dark-haired girl said, "And now you make him run off. You certainly have a talent. Emmett, do you mind catching up with him before he does something stupid?"

The big, curly haired guy got up and followed Edward out of the cafeteria. The girl across the table watched me carefully. I noticed that she had the exact same skin tone and golden eyes as Edward, as did the blond girl and guy at the table.

"Are you guys related to Edward?"

"Why?" The girl asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I don't know…you don't look alike…your eyes look similar though."

She shot a sideways glance at the blond guy next to her-if I'd blinked, I would have missed it-and then a feeling of ease swept over me. What had I been asking? I couldn't remember. I saw the girl from my English class, staring at me, and noticing the glare of the girl across from me, stood up and walked to Jessica's table.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked.

She shook her head, staring at me in awe.

"What were you doing sitting with the Cullens?"

"I had to talk to Edward about something."

She suddenly looked fascinated, as did everyone else at the table.

"Really? What?"

"Nothing important." I lied. I was quite good at lying, or else I never would have gotten away with everything that I did, "Hey, are they related?"

"Well," Jessica said, leaning over the table and whispering conspiratorially, in full gossip mode, "The two blond ones-they're Jasper and Rosalie Hale-Mr. and Mrs. Cullen adopted them a long time ago; I think she's their aunt. The rest of them are adopted. I think Mrs Cullen can't have kids or something. They're all together though. Jasper and Alice-she's the tiny brunette; and Rosalie and Emmett-he's the big one that just left. Edward looked upset. Do you know what's wrong with him?"

I shrugged. I'd been in on the conversation, but it seemed like I'd been missing something. He hadn't seemed upset until I'd gotten all in his face. Maybe he was one of those people who just didn't like other people being near him or touching him. Usually it was girls who didn't like being touched; I was certainly like that, but who knew? Anything was possible.

**Sorry. Lame final paragraph. But overall, I think this chapter is okay. Tell me if it's not. Also, if my description of being high and withdrawal is inaccurate, I'm sorry. I'm not a druggie, and I'm too sheltered to have read many books about them. Which makes me wonder why I felt the need to write about one…**


	3. THe shiny silver volvo

The next morning, I woke up with this horrible, pounding headache. The light coming into the window blinded me, even though it was minimal, causing me to snap my eyes shut again.

"Bella, you have to be at school in twenty minutes." Charlie's muffled voice told me through the door.

I rolled out of bed, pulled the first things I saw out of the closet and got dressed, glancing in the mirror. I looked absolutely terrible. I'd heard that withdrawal made you feel awful, but I'd never heard about how it makes you look. My eyes were red and there were circles under them, as if I hadn't slept, which was pretty accurate. Not having the drugs I was accustomed to had thrown me out of whack (I knew it would just get worse if Edward didn't give me the ecstasy back) and every time I'd woken up, I had the eerie sensation of being watched, although I couldn't imagine who would be interested in stalking me.

I raked a brush through my hair and dabbed foundation on to hide the circles beneath my eyes and stepped back to examine myself in the mirror. The sleeves were too short, I decided. They had to go at least down to my thumb, so they hid my wrists. I tossed the shirt towards the laundry basket and pulled on a green one with sufficiently long sleeves.

I left for school, grabbing a piece of toast on the way out.

The truck didn't want to start. I tried to start it at least ten times, with no result. Finally, just as I was giving up, a shiny silver Volvo pulled into my car, and who should be in it but Edward Cullen.

"Need help?" He asked politely, coming over and leaning on the side of the truck.

"No. Thief."

"You could report me to Charlie. I don't think it would do you much good, though, seeing as I stole something that you possessed illegally."

He watched me turn the key in the ignition again, then said,

"It's not going to start."

"I _know_ that. What are you doing here, Edward."

"Just happened to be passing by."

"Your house is twenty minutes away from here, and this is the part of Forks that happens to be farthest away from both your house and the high school. You are not just stopping by."

"So maybe I'm not. Maybe I had a hunch that your car would stop working. You should have seen the exhaust fumes yesterday. It was due to stop working any second. I was here to offer you a ride."

"No thank you." I growled, yanking my backpack out of the passenger seat and starting off down the sidewalk, in the direction of the school.

After a minute or so, Edward's Volvo pulled up beside me.

"Bella, get in the car."

"N-n-no." I said, teeth chattering.

"It's nearly freezing out here. I'm only trying to help."

I glared at him. "Fine."

The inside of the car was surprisingly warm, stopping my shivering almost immediately.

"Thanks." I said unwillingly.

"My pleasure."

"Why'd you run off yesterday?"

"During lunch?"

"No, that other time you ran away from me yesterday." I said sarcastically, "Yes, lunch. What else would I be talking about."

"I didn't feel comfortable having that conversation with you."

"Why?"

He shrugged, pressing the power button on the CD player so that the car was filled with the sounds of piano. I'd heard quite a bit of classical around Renee's house, but never this song.

"What is this?"

"Eternity."

"That's the name of the song?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Weird name. Who's the composer?"

He gave me a crooked smile and said, very quietly, "Me."

"Really?"

"Yes. Alice made me write this one. She wanted a waltz so she could teach Jasper how to dance." He smiled at the thought.

I listened closer. It really was very good. I couldn't believe that the boy sitting next to me had written it.

"You shouldn't do that."

"What?" I asked, looking up at him. He was looking at my wrists, which were crisscrossed with scars that were years old. My sleeves had come up somehow, "Oh. That. Edward, it's not really any of your-"

"Will you just stop?"

My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe that he, almost a stranger, was telling me what to do with my life.

"Don't you dare-"

"I didn't mean just the cutting." He muttered, "I meant all of it. Drugs too."

I fought the urge to punch him.

"Why do you do it?" He sounded like he genuinely cared, unlike the counselors that my mom had sent me to.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I noticed that we were at school now, and Edward was pulling into his parking spot.

"Bella-"He said, stretching a hand towards my shoulder hesitantly.

"Don't. Touch. Me." I said through gritted teeth, "Don't act like you understand me, Edward Cullen. Don't waste my time trying to make me think you care, because you don't. Nobody does."

I climbed out of the car and stalked across the parking lot, too distracted to see the van coming towards me.


	4. Edward tresspasses

A/N I'm really surprised that people actually like this story, because the main character has become a complete screw up. The only thing I don't like is that Jacob's not in it, but I don't think he really fits in right now. The whole Edward-Bella-Jacob love triangle (or rather love line, because Edward and Jacob aren't in love) thing is too irritating to write.

The car was coming so fast that I barely had time to see it, let alone get out of its way. Something slammed me to the ground, and I closed my eyes, expecting the whole life flashing before my eyes thing to start.

It didn't. And as I laid there, it became apparent that it hadn't been the van that had hit me. It had been a person, whose arms were now wrapped around me protectively. I opened my eyes to see two things.

The first one was the bumper of a green van, barely three inches in front of my nose.

The second thing, which was much more shocking, was him. Edward. He was looking at me, and said, completely sincerely,

"I care."

"How did you get there?" I asked him. He helped me to my feet. My ankle gave a painful twinge, and I would have fallen if he hadn't caught me.

"I was standing right next to you."

"You were in the car, Edward." I insisted.

"No, Bella." He insisted, staring directly into my eyes as if that action alone could convince me.

"But-"

Someone came running towards us, and I couldn't tell who it was until they started speaking. It was the principle.

"Mr. Cullen, let her sit down, for heaven's sake." She instructed, "We called an ambulance."

I dreaded hospitals. Absolutely dreaded them. Not because I was scared of needles or anything. I was scared of blood tests. Blood tests revealed whether you were on drugs. Luckily, there wasn't a scratch on me, and the only thing wrong with me was my ankle, which was Ace bandaged before I was sent home.

Charlie had told Renee, who was in hysterics, because she though it had been intentional. When I got in Charlie's cruiser, he looked at me guiltily, then handed me a cell phone. Renee's voice shouted out of it.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

"I was wondering why the car was going so fast in the school parking lot."

"BELLA!"

"It was an accident, Mom. I'm not suicidal."

She took a deep breath. "Bella. If you ever scare me like that again-"

"I won't. I'm fine, I promise."

I snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Charlie, who spent the entire ride home apologizing. As a sign of his regret, he ordered pizza that night, meaning that I wouldn't have to cook. I ended up going to bed ridiculously early, completely exhausted from the day's events.

I was having even more trouble sleeping tonight. I was still having the dreams about the golden-haired boy, who I now knew was Edward, and they were unsettling. I woke up from the dream, shaking, and for a moment, thought I was still asleep, because he was there, just outside my window, watching me pensively.

I crossed the room, watching the shock register on his face, and threw open the window.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

"Hello, Bella." He said, just as if we were at school instead of my house at three in the morning.

"Hello? That's it? Want to explain what you're doing here?"

"Not really."

"I'll scream."

"That won't do anything. It'll just make Charlie think you're crazy." He warned.

I screamed anyway. Edward dropped down, onto the lawn, and disappeared faster than humanly possible.

Charlie burst into the room, bathrobe pulled around him.

"What's wrong?"

"There was a guy. Outside my window."

He stared out the window, but saw nothing.

"Bella. Nobody's there. Close your window. I'm going back to bed."

After the door had closed behind him, I stomped my foot, muttering, "Stupid hot guy."

I didn't sleep the rest of the night, worried that the 'stupid hot guy' would show up again. The lack of sleep did nothing to help my exhausted, drug-deprived body, and I was barely able to get dressed the next morning.

I went out to start my car, but once again, it didn't work. In the excitement of yesterday, I'd forgotten to mention my car trouble to Charlie. I kicked the tire and started walking. If Edward showed up, I was going to punch him.

But when I got to school half an hour later, his car wasn't in the parking lot. I didn't see him at lunch either, although the rest of them were there. I went over to the table, sat down, and confronted Alice.

"Where is he?"

She shrugged.

"You know where he is, and I need to talk to him. Now."

"Bella-"

"Don't 'Bella' me. You don't even know me, Alice Cullen. I need to talk to Edward."

"Listen," Emmett said, leaning across the table, "Ed's not going to tell you anything, so it's not really worth your time."

"He owes me." I growled.

"Actually," Jasper said, "you owe him. He saved your life, remember?"

"He was outside my room watching me in the middle of the night. I didn't call the authorities-okay, so I did scream, and Charlie came, but that doesn't really count.

All of them stared at me.

"He _what_?" Alice squeaked.

The bell rang overhead, and we all left for our next class, Alice muttering, "I can't believe I didn't see this."

He showed up about halfway through Biology, excuse note in hand. He gave it to the teacher and sat down next to me, slipping me a folded piece of notebook paper.

_Sorry, _it said.

_Edward, what the heck is your freakin' problem? Explain what you were doing; don't just say sorry._

I handed it back to him.

_I really don't have an explanation…Alice is going to kill me now, which seems to be what you want, and I did save your life, so can we just call it even?_

I gave him a look.

_So you were watching me for no reason._

_Um…yeah._

_**Have you ever been arrested?**_

When he read that, his shoulders started shaking with laughter. He put the note into his pocket and pretended to be fascinated by the pictures of cells we were being shown.

After class, right outside the room, I confronted him.

"I deserve an explanation." I hissed.

"You're not going to get one."

"There's no way you could have saved me. You were forty feet away, inside a car, and within half a second, you were next to me. Then watching me in the middle of the night…Edward, who are you?"

"That's not the right question." He muttered, walking away from me.

A/N So, in case you didn't catch it, the right question is 'what are you.' I kept laughing when I was writing this chapter. I can just see the look on Bella's face when she sees Edward at her window.


	5. Port Angeles

A/N: I heart this story.

Disclaimer: As much as I wished Edward were one of my characters, he belongs to Stephanie Meyer (I hope that someday one of my characters can be as good as him) as do the rest of the Cullens, Charlie, and Bella (Although all of my friends tell me how much I'm like her, which is bad considering how much I dislike her. I killed her off in Finding Jacob. Everyone was mad.)

Also, in this story, Jacob and Bella already know each other. They went on fishing trips and stuff when they were younger.

Halfway through my last class, World History, weird things started happening. The board the teacher was writing on started turning slowly, and soon the entire room was spinning. I'd heard about people having hallucinations when they were going through withdrawal, but I'd never experienced it.

"Bella?" The teacher said, almost scolding me. I expected her voice to snap me back into reality, but it didn't; on the contrary, her scratchy voice made my head start pounding, completely ruining my effort to concentrate.

"Bella Swan, answer the question!"

"Umm…China?"

"I asked what year William the Conqueror became king of England. 1066, Miss Swan."

"Sorry. I'm, um, not really feeling well." I said, realizing that my hands were shaking.

The classroom was right side up now, and I could see her disapproving expression softening. Everyone had been ridiculously nice to me today, since I'd almost been killed by Tyler's van yesterday.

"Do you need to go to the clinic?"

"Um…sure." I said, while thinking, _fat chance._

"Here. I'll write you a pass." She scribbled something on a pink post-it note and handed it to me, "Want me to send someone with you?"

I shook my head. "I can walk up there."

I picked up my backpack and purse and left, crumpling the note as soon as I was out of the room. I went out to my car, and was about to go home, but remembered that I'd walked to school. A voice called out behind me,

"Need help?"

Edward Cullen. What was his deal?

"Not from you."

"How are you planning on getting home?"

"I don't know." I could walk, but that didn't sound particularly fun.

"You're supposed to be in the clinic."

"How do you know that?" I demanded, whirling around to stare at him. He started to do that weird spinning thing the classroom had done. The problem was, this time, I wasn't sitting down, and my knees collapsed under me. I didn't hit the ground though. Edward caught me and picked me up, walking towards his car.

"Let go of me."

"Bella, you fell over. You can't expect me to put you down so you can fall again, can you?"

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you home."

He ushered me into the car, much to my irritation, and closed the door.

"Why were you spying on me?" I demanded once he was in the car, "What do you think I am, a zoo exhibit?"

"Well _I_ didn't think that, but you can be a zoo exhibit if you so desire. You can be the wolves and I can be the mountain lions."

"Edward Cullen, you're crazy."

"I was only trying to play along."

"Lambs."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'd rather be the lambs. Or sheep. Whatever. I like them better than wolves."

He was staring at me while he drove, completely astonished.

"Interesting choice." He muttered, as though we were discussing something very serious.

"So are mountain lions. They're not your type at all."

"Aren't they?"

"Well, you're not carnivorous. Or scary. Although the spying on people thing is a little odd. You might want to lay off that."

"I could be if I wanted to."

"What? Carnivorous or scary?"

"The second one."

I looked at him. "I don't think so."

"Interesting."

"Well, I guess you could scare people if you wanted to, but you don't. You're too…nice."

"Thank you." He said, as though he thought I was crazy, "This is your house."

I got out of the car and went in. When he drove off, he still had that amazed look on his face.

Charlie wasn't there yet, of course. I went in the kitchen and pulled a couple hot dogs out of the freezer. There was a note taped to the outside of it that said,

_Hey Bells. Billy and Jacob are coming over to watch a football game, so can you make a little extra food? Thanks._

_-Dad_

I tossed about eight hot dogs in a pot of water on the stove, hoping that would be enough. I'd have to see if I could get my car fixed. Charlie had said something about Jacob being into fixing cars. Maybe he could help.

"Bella? You home?" Charlie called from the foyer.

"Yeah. In the kitchen."

He came in. "How was school?"

"Okay. Hey, didn't you say Jacob can fix cars? My truck hasn't been starting."

"How'd you get to school?"

"I walked."

"Bella! You could have called me. I would have been happy to come back and take you."

I shrugged. "It's okay. But can he?"

"Can who what?"

"Jacob, Dad. Fix cars."

"Oh. Yeah. I think he's actually building one. He still needs-oh what was it? Right. HE needs a master cylinder."

Right. Whatever that was.

About thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Charlie let Jacob and Billy in. Billy was in a wheelchair now, and Jacob was about a foot taller than the last time I'd seen him.

"Bella, this is Billy and Jacob." Charlie told me.

"I know. I remember them. Jacob, Charlie said you were interested in cars. Mine's been kind of…well, it won't start. Can you help maybe?"

"Sure." He said, looking relieved.

We went out to the car.

"Thanks." Jacob said, flipping up the hood of my truck. I was holding a flashlight, because it was too dark to see the car innards without one.

"For what?"

"Getting me away from Billy. He's been so weird lately." Jacob said, shaking his head.

"How?" I didn't really expect him to tell me-I barely knew the guy. It seemed polite to ask though.

"It's-you'd think it was stupid. Tribe legends."

"He used to tell us those stories when we were out fishing, remember?"

"Actually, the only time I remember him doing that is the time he scared you so bad that you fell out of the canoe."

"Deviating from the subject of my clumsiness-what's wrong with the tribe legends?"

"I think he believes them." Jacob said, "Oh, here. That's what's wrong with this." He plunged his arm down into the mechanics.

"But aren't some of the legends true?"

"Yeah, the historical ones. But he's believing in the stories about cold ones."

"Which means…?"

"I guess you'd call them vampires." Jacob rolled his eyes, "It's really weird. Seriously, he talks about them in his sleep."

"Maybe he's in love with a mysterious vampire woman." I giggled.

"Fat chance. He freaked out because we were reading Dracula at school. Said that we were learning about villainous demonic things. Crazy, huh?"

"Yeah. What's the legend?"

He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the car.

"I don't know the whole thing. I kind of try to ignore him. But," He said, trying to look serious, "Apparently, these cold ones are intent on killing humans, pale people who appear to be normal, until they lure you in, away from everyone else, and drink your blood. It's weird, isn't it? Can't believe Billy believes it. Your car's fixed, by the way. It wasn't anything serious."

"Oh, thanks." I said, my head starting to pound suddenly.

"Bella?" He asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah." I said, even though it was a lie. What was I supposed to tell him? _No, I'm suffering from withdrawal and desperately in need of a fix._ Yeah. That would go over well.

Back in the house, listening to the football, an idea occurred to me.

"Hey, Charlie?" I asked.

"Yeah?" He said, glancing at me.

"Since the car's fixed, can I go get groceries?"

"Oh. Um, sure Bella."

"Cool. See ya."

I waltzed out to my car, glad that this was going to work, even though the pounding headache was getting worse.

I'd overheard someone mentioning that there was a club in Port Angeles; there was always a drug dealer or two at clubs. I had to get something, or else I was going to go crazy. I'd even heard of people dying from withdrawal. Granted, it's not common, but it can happen.

The inside of the club was exactly like all the ones I'd ever been to. Lights flashed everywhere; smoke floated on the air; alcohol was everywhere. It was hard to spot dealers in the dim light, but after about twenty minutes, I saw a possible one; a man slipping a bottle out of his pocket discreetly and handing it to another man before making his way out of the club. I followed, determined not to lose him.

I ran down a back alley after him, trying to catch up with him, but soon he was out of sight, and I hopelessly lost in the dark alleys. There was a voice behind me.

"Hey there!" I turned around, and I saw a heavyset man with dark hair and cutoff jeans coming towards me. I started running, knowing that he couldn't be good.

He caught up to me though, and I was slammed against one of the brick walls of the alleyway, the man's face inches from mine. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Don't run away." He whispered. I struggled, but I couldn't get away from him. My brain was telling me to scream, that maybe someone would hear me, but he seemed to see my intent, because a blade was pressed against my throat.

"Make a noise and you'll regret it, mark my words."

Then, out of the dark silence of the alley, came a voice; one that I thought I would never be happy to hear.

"Let go of her." Edward's voice commanded.

Dun dun dun. I'll update soon. I'm literally addicted to this story.


	6. better chapter six

Important announcement: This chapter is a redo of the other chaptersix, which you may or may not have read. It was a really crappy chapter. That was my signature 'Emilee is angry at life and on top of that, has writer's block' writing. I apologize. A lot. And if you flamed that chapter, thank you. A lot. Because it was bad.

The man turned his head to look at the person. I couldn't see a thing, because his arm was clamped over my neck, blocking air and making black spots dominate my vision.

Then I was released. I fell to the ground, breathing hard, willing myself not to pass out. I kept taking in shaky breaths, and when my vision cleared, Edward was right in front of me, bronze hair falling across his face, watching me intently.

My cheek was throbbing, and I felt a scrape there.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Well, no Edward. I scratched my face up myself." I was mad, mostly at the man who had attacked me, but since Edward was there, my anger was being vented onto him, "I would have been fine too. You didn't have to come in here and-"

"Do you have any idea what he was going to do?"

"No, I don't, and unless you could read his mind, you don't either."

"Let me get this straight." He said, his cold eyes seeming to penetrate to my soul, tone tense, "That man was a fine, upstanding citizen. He was really just talking to you, and then I came in and ruined your conversation? Well, I'm so sorry."

"I didn't say that."

"No, Bella, but it was implied. I'm not an idiot."

"Prove it." I challenged.

"Which would you like to hear then, biographies of the presidents or an in-depth explanation of the circulatory system? Would either of those suffice in convincing you that I am not an idiot?" His tone was bitingly sarcastic, his eyes getting even colder.

"I want my drugs back." The pounding headache that had been temporarily banished by the adrenaline was back again, a reminder of just how much I needed the drugs.

"Bella, no."

"Please." My voice cracked on the word, the pain flooding through me. Not just the physical pain of it, but the loneliness, the fact that I was alone. The drugs numbed the loneliness and the fear, fear of being hurt, left, damaged. Except that I was already damaged.

A cool hand pressed against my forehead, alleviating the pain a little. I leaned forward blindly, coming to rest against Edward's stone chest, sobbing.

"I'll take you home." He said, his voice softer.

"Thanks." I mumbled, wiping a hand across my face, trying to stop the tears. He helped me to my feet. I couldn't see through my tears, but his arm was wrapped around my shoulders, leading me out of the alley and back into the light.

He seemed to know where my car was, although I couldn't imagine how.

"Where's your car?" I asked as he got in the driver's seat, buckling my seatbelt.

"Didn't bring one."

"How did you get here?" I asked, closing my eyes against the lights of the shops.

"Can't tell you."

"'Kay."

"Wait. You're not going to ask?"

"I haven't got enough energy. And, although you stole my drugs, I think you may be a little trustworthy, since you weren't the one trying to rape me in an alley. Is that what he was doing-or do you even know?"

"That's exactly what he was trying to do." I snuck a glance at him. His eyes were fixed on the road, his face surprisingly vulnerable.

"Well, look at that." I said, "Edward Cullen _is _human."

"What?"

"You have an emotion other than anger and indifference. You're acting like a human being."

He let out a frustrated sigh, raking his fingers through his hair, obviously frustrated. 

"Why do you do that?" He asked, pointing at my exposed wrists, trying to change the subject. The scars were more prominent in the shadows the moon cast over the car.

"It hurts less." I said softly.

"Than what?"

"It gives me something else to think about, other than-" My chest tightened, the weight of the secret pressing down on me, hidden for so long that I couldn't bring it into the light.

"Bella, you can trust me."

"I can't trust anyone!"

"I swear, Bella, you can tell me. Obviously there's something going on, and I don't want-" He cut off abruptly, his eyes troubled, as though he'd said something he shouldn't have.

"What?" I whispered.

"I don't want you to be hurting." He said, his voice sounding like velvet.

"Phil. My mom's husband. She didn't know." The words were spilling out now, the words that I had vowed never to tell a soul, "I couldn't tell her."

"He hurt you."

I nodded, the tears starting again. "It was fine-at first. Then there was a comment, a couple more, and one day-when Mom was at work-I said something he didn't like. He hit me. My face was bruised for a week. I told everyone that I'd walked into a doorframe. He kept hitting me-it was getting worse-then he started coming in my room in the middle of the night."

Edward's sharp intake of breath halted me for a second, then I continued, because letting someone know-it was like I'd been poisoned, and the poison was leaving my body. 

"I was angry, hurt, afraid. I didn't want to feel anymore. That's when the cutting and drugs started. I was cutting class too, to go get drugs. Renee found out-she knows about the cutting too. That's why she sent me here. She thinks it'll straighten me out. She doesn't know what a favor she's doing me, getting me away from Phil."

"We're at your house." Edward said quietly.

I looked up. The small house was there, the cruiser parked in front of us, the Blacks' car gone by now.

"Thank you." He said.

"For what?"

"Trusting me." Then the car door opened, and he disappeared, quickly and silently, the wind in human form.

Important question: why do they call certain scenes 'lemons'? If anyone could tell me, I would be very grateful. I never get things like that. My friends all call me a sheltered child. Little do they know about my druggie fanfics…

Also! Announcement: I will not be updating for about a week, because I am taking a journey into my soul. Actually, I'm not. I'm really intensively studying for a math competition, at which I shall beat Preston, the same Preston who was shamed upon in the previous edition of this chapter! I would say two weeks, but I'm nicer than that.


	7. Edward's POV

I don't like to randomly switch POV, but I feel like Edward's perspective is important.

Random side note here: My school gives out an 'Art Lemon Star Award' to a teacher. I don't know what it's for, In real life, just a dumb name, but in fanfiction, there are completely different connotations. 

Also, please review, because I only got, like, three reviews on the last chapter, and it made me sad. I don't care if you flame me or whatever, but reviews would be nice. Especially you, Steph! You owe me for helping w/ your story.

Random side note done. Disclaimer! Not mine!

EPOV 

The wind rushed against me as I ran. Running made me feel almost human. Not the speed-that was nothing like what humans could do. But I was pushing my limits, running, and still trying to go faster.

The lights of the house were visible now, twin shadows flickering across the porch. As I got closer, I saw that it was Alice, sitting on the porch railing, swinging her feet back and forth.

"Edward," She said, not bothering to look my direction, "have you any idea how angry they are?"

"All of them?" I shifted my thoughts momentarily to the minds of those in the house, which were, as Alice had said, predominantly angry.

"Well, I wouldn't say Carlisle is. Well, I mean, you know him. He's never angry. Just…not happy."

I walked up the porch steps, leaning against the railing next to her.

"I'm not sure why you did it either. Why did you try to save her?"

I shrugged, glancing up at the unclouded sky. We wouldn't be going anywhere near school tomorrow, and for the first time, I was disappointed by the prospect.

"I just don't understand. How could you go from wanting to kill her to keeping her alive? I mean, you're not exactly average, but still…"

"Maybe she just needs help. You wouldn't believe what she's been through. Were you watching? Did you see _why_ she moved here?" I asked, watching Alice. She was biting her lip, the seriousness on her face making her look like a different person.

"I wasn't watching that." She admitted.

I watched the shadows dance across the wood, propelled by Alice's feet, then glanced into the window. "I should talk to Carlisle, shouldn't I?"

"And Rosalie. She about had a fit. You know how she is." Alice raised her eyebrows, pulling her face into Rosalie's normal condescending expression.

"Great." I muttered, walking into the house.

There was silence from the living room where just a second ago, Jasper and Emmett had been having a heated argument. Rosalie glared at me as I walked past. The only difference between her and Alice's expressions was the color of the hair framing them.

"Edward-" Jasper started, trying to calm the room, make me more receptive to his ideas. It made me angrier, that he was trying to control me.

"Stop, Jasper. You have no idea what-"

"What? That you're with a human?" Rosalie cut in, her voice sharp, a knife that cut at my conscience with both her words and thoughts, "That you're risking everything? Edward, you're putting all of us at risk."

"It's not safe." Jasper agreed, "You're going to slip up sooner or later. I'd rather have it done with. It's too much temptation for you to deal with. All it'll take is wearing sunglasses for a couple days-make it look like an accident."

I stared at them. Surely they weren't advocating killing a human. That was why we lived with Carlisle, to stay away from killing them. Emmett. He had to be on my side.

_Sorry, Ed, but they're right._ He thought, looking at me apologetically.

"You don't know what she's-I can't just-" I sputtered, "I'm not going to kill her."

"Edward's right." Carlisle's soft voice came from behind us. He was leaning against a wall, watching us as though he'd been there for hours, "You can't keep being around her, Edward, but you can't kill her either."

"But-" What was I going to tell them? That she trusted me? Was I going to say that she needed someone to talk to? No, I couldn't. No.

They watched me, waiting for the rest of my sentence.

"I'm going."

"Where?" Emmett asked.

"Out. To think."

I went to the same place I'd gone every night since meeting Bella. I climbed up the ivy, resting with my feet balanced on the windowsill, watching her.

"Edward." She murmured. I leaned back into the shadows, thinking she'd seen me and hoping she would think her eyes had tricked her. But she rolled over, saying more quietly, "Edward."

I stayed, watching her sleep, the first time I'd ever seen her look truly peaceful, until the sun crept over the horizon and it was too dangerous for me to be out. 

BPOV

I yawned, stretching out my arm to turn off the blaring alarm. 

"Bella!" Charlie called, "Didn't you go shopping last night? I thought you were getting cereal!"

I got up, rubbing my eyes, trying to think up a story in the short time it took me to walk down the stairs. He'd been asleep when I'd gotten home, so I hadn't had to explain then. I decided on a half-truth.

"Where's the food?" He asked.

"Um…I got mugged."

"Are you serious?" H e asked, eyes widening, half father and half police officer.

I nodded. The scrape on my cheek was proof enough.

"Did you know them? Did you get a good look at them?"

"No. It was dark. It was in the parking lot." I said, yawning again. I hadn't slept well. There had been a feeling hanging over me, one of being watched.

"How did you get away from them?" He demanded, "Did you have pepper spray?"

"No, Dad. A guy from school was getting food there too-Edward Cullen. You know him?" I asked, listening carefully for any clues to what Edward might be.

"Good family. Dr. Cullen's good. So, he saved you?"

"Yeah. Told the guy not to mess with me."

"And he just…ran off?"

"Edward's pretty intimidating." I hedged, not wanting to explain the way his voice resonated, the way he seemed like he would tear apart anything that made him angry. That wouldn't be a good idea.

"Good. I'll have to call Dr. Cullen and thank him."

EPOV

The phone rang. Nobody moved to answer it. We were supposed to be away.

The answering machine beeped, the message echoing through the house.

"This is Chief Swan. I was just calling to thank your son Edward."

I smirked. What had she told him?

"Bella said that a guy tried to mug her last night while she was grocery shopping."

Actually, he had been trying to rape her while she was drug shopping, but I could see why she wouldn't want Charlie to know that.

"And she said Edward told the guy to back off. So, thanks for helping Bells. I appreciate it."

There was absolute silence throughout the entire house for about thirty seconds, then the arguing started.

This chapter was fun to write…I hope it's okay…shorter than I wanted. Barely over 1,000 words. And, not to be a nag, but...reviews. Please!


	8. no name

This is basically about how things would have happened if Bella had been an addict

Thank you for the reviews. They made me happy. I don't want to become a review tyrant. but the reviews for chapter six all centered around the meaning of 'lemons.' A tad bit odd, if you ask me.

BPOV

School was torture. The withdrawal was getting worse every minute, the headache pounding harder.

I was trying to pay attention. Honestly, I was. I was watching the board, trying to fathom why on earth it even mattered if I could find the degree of a polynomial, when the pain sharpened. It was as though someone had stabbed me, and everything went black.

My eyes opened, the green walls on either side of me making me feel claustrophobic.

"You alright there, sweetie?" The nurse asked. I wondered vaguely how I'd gotten here. Had someone carried me? Had I walked?

"Yeah." I muttered, rubbing my head and squinting against the bright florescent light, "Really bad migraine. I get them sometimes."

"Want me to call your dad? He can come sign you out."

"No." I said, quickly enough to cause her suspicion, "He's busy at work. I'll-I'll be fine."

"You sure?" She asked, "You're very pale."

No, I wasn't sure at all, but Charlie knew that I didn't get migraines, and I didn't want him suspecting anything.

"You know, my head's feeling better now." It was, though not by much.. "I think I'm going to go back to class…if that's okay."

"It's lunch right now." She told me kindly.

"Oh. Right. Thanks." I hightailed it out of there, before she got a good look at my bloodshot eyes, not to mention the circles under them. Trained professionals knew how to tell when kids were on drugs.

The lunchroom was nearly full, with only one table empty. The group of girls I'd sat with the first day saw me walking towards the solitary table, and one of them-the tall, quiet one-motioned me over.

I changed direction abruptly, glad to not have to look like an idiot, sitting alone. I slid into the seat across from the girl. What was her name? Annie?

"I'm Angela." She said, giving a smile that was unusually genuine for high school.

"Thanks. I'm Bella."

"I know. You passed out during math. Are you okay?"

Was that actual _concern_ in her voice? Not just fuel for gossip, but concern? 

"Yeah. I had a really bad migraine. Happens all the time. Usually they aren't that bad." I felt guilty lying to her, even though I'd just met her. She seemed so sincere.

"Oh." She said, nodding, "My mom gets those sometimes. So, how do you like the school?"

"It's…different." Different as in kids in Phoenix didn't lead me off into the woods, steal my drugs, or save me from random guys in alleys.

"Your old school was probably bigger, wasn't it? Phoenix, right?"

"Yeah, it was bigger. Wait, how did you know I'm from-is there that much gossip about me?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's funny. There's one now that you're going out with Edward Cullen."

"No. I am definitely not. He is so weird." Hot, understanding, intelligent, but still weird. And really, I would love to go out with Edward Cull-No! No, no, no! What was wrong with me?

"I didn't think it was true. Has Tyler invited you to the dance yet?" She asked, the laid-back way she asked proving that it was out of pure curiosity, not for gossipy purposes.

"_Who_?" I demanded, feeling my headache kick back up at the volume of the word.

"Tyler Crowley. The guy who almost ran you over. Jess says he's going to ask you out to make up for it." 

"Are you _serious_?" I knew I sounded like a preppy little gossip, but I couldn't help it, "I am going to _kill_ him!"

(Back to Edward)

"She told him!" Rosalie's shriek echoed through the house.

"You don't know that!" I called back, "She couldn't have told him the whole story. She wouldn't want him to know about the drugs."

"What drugs?" Esme asked. How she'd missed that, I don't know, but she sounded shocked.

"This is ridiculous." Jasper's growl came from across the house.

"Oh, will you just leave him alone?" Alice snapped back, "He can't just kill her."

"I disagree." Boomed Emmett's voice.

"In the living room." Carlisle said, in the tone that was as close as he ever got to anger, "Now."

We were downstairs immediately, Jasper and Alice sitting on the couch; Emmett on the pool table, arms around Rosalie's waist; and Esme and I to the sides, near walls. Carlisle was in the middle.

"Stop. Arguing." You'd be shocked at how much of a pacifist he really is, being a vampire.

"What drugs?" Esme demanded again, eliciting snickers from Emmett and Jasper.

"Bella is on drugs." He explained.

"Well, not anymore." Alice amended, "Since Edward stole them."

Esme's eyebrows shot up into her bangs as her head turned to me, shocked.

"Focus, for thirty seconds." Carlisle said, "Obviously, there is some misunderstanding. Edward can't just go around killing anyone who smells-"

"If he doesn't get away from her, he's going to eventually." Jasper muttered.

Carlisle pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hide his anger. "Jasper. The point of this family is that-"

"How long do you think he's going to be able to stop himself?" Jasper shot back, his eyes bursting to light, "A week? A month?"

"I'm not going to hurt her." I said, mostly to convince myself.

"Why?" Jasper asked.

"I don't know. I just _can't_."

"If you don't know _why_, your willpower is going to be much weaker than if you did know, so if you want her to stay alive, I suggest that you find a motive very quickly." Jasper shot back.

"We're moving now, aren't we?" Alice asked quietly, "I just saw-Carlisle, you decided that-"

"We can't!" I protested.

"Why?" They all asked, except for Alice, who watched me knowingly.

"Tell them." She said.

I bit my lip. This was not a good idea. Not in the least.

"Tell us what?" Carlisle asked, more curiosity than normal tainting his voice.

"I care about her. And not care as in 'I won't kill her because she's not the bad guy.' I mean…I can't just…leave. She needs help. She trusts me."

All of their faces registered shock, except for Carlisle. 

"You're in love with her." Rosalie accused, venom dripping through her voice.

"Yes." I said. Was that possible? I barely knew her. But yes, I did love her. She was beautiful, yes, but that wasn't all. She was independent, more so than was good for her. Unpredictable, her mind completely her own, outside the realm of my knowledge. And as tough as she thought she was, she was vulnerable and needed to be protected. 

Why I felt that I had to be the one doing the protecting, I didn't know. But it seemed right, the first thing that had in years. The most right thing I'd done since coming back to Carlisle.

Rosalie turned away in disgust, flying op the stairs, Emmett and Jasper behind her.

"That went well." Alice said dryly, "This might have been one of those rare times when it's better to lie."

"Does she know?" Carlisle asked. I knew what he was talking about.

"No."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"Not yet. I don't think I can now."

"I'd advise avoiding them." He said, looking up at the ceiling, which was now giving off loud 'thump's as Rosalie stomped around.

"Is it better if I leave her alone?" I mused, glancing at a stream of light flowing in through the window. I turned, and they had already left the room, probably to give me privacy. 

I went over to my piano, where sheets of manuscript paper sat, most of them half-filled. I put my hands on the keys and felt my fingers flowing over them. At first, it sounded like an old song; the first one I'd written after becoming a vampire.

But, as I played, it changed, and soon it stopped being a song. It was a person within the song, the notes molding their character, looks, speech. The song was Bella.

Yeah, so if you didn't understand that last part, I was comparing the song Edward was playing to Bella, because I do that all the time with music; coming up with a plot based on notes.


	9. Chapter 9

I am a crazy writing maniac

**I am a crazy writing maniac! Woot!**

**Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, sadly enough.**

BPOV

After school, I went by the supermarket (which, being in such a small town, was somewhat less than super) to make sure that we had something other than fish in the house, or, at least, something to season fish with. The lady at the counter was giving me funny looks, until she finally got up the courage to ask, 

"Are you Chief Swan's daughter?"

I nodded, making her blue eyes widen. No doubt I was a subject of gossip; the daughter of the sheriff's ex-wife. I got my groceries and got out of there as quickly as possible, the cashier watching me curiously the whole way out.

Charlie wasn't home yet. I brought all the food inside and put it in the refrigerator, leaving out a package of hamburger, which I was cooking for dinner.

I molded the meat into patties and put it on a skillet. As I was putting the last one on, the phone rang.

"Just a minute." I muttered under my breath, putting my hands under the water from the sink.

I picked up the phone, hands still wet.

"Hello?"

"Bella!" It was Renee.

"Hey Mom! How are you doing?"

"I've got some great news for you." She paused, then blurted out, "Phil and I are going to move! To Washington."

"Why?" She mistook my horror for excitement.

"Well, we thought that since it's good for you to be around your father, it would be good for you to stay with him. You're away from the bad influences at your previous school, and Phil got a job less than fifty miles out of Forks! Charlie was going to tell you about the custody agreement when he got home, but I just couldn't wait. We'll have you on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and Charlie will have you the other days. It's perfect."

"Yeah." I said shakily, the voice in my brain protesting; _no, no, no, no_, "Mom, my hamburgers are burning. I've got to go."

I hung up and slid the meat off of the skillet, onto a plate. My brain was screaming at me, telling me that I should have told Renee why I didn't want them up here, but I couldn't.

The front door opened and closed and Charlie came into the kitchen.

"Hey Bells. Did Renee tell you-"

"Yes." I said, too quickly.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"What? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. Hamburgers for dinner." I said, injecting false enthusiasm into my voice.

"Wow. Thanks." He said, taking two plates out of the cupboard.

"Welcome. The buns are in the grocery bag on the counter." I told him, "So, when are they moving up here?" My voice wasn't quite casual enough to be entirely believable, but Charlie wasn't perceptive enough to notice.

"Next week, I think." He said, slathering mustard onto the burger.

The panic kicked up a notch. A week. Seven days. Not enough time to find a way out.

"Bella, are you absolutely sure you're alright? You don't look normal."

"School was kind of rough. Hard to meet people when they've known each other since kindergarten." I said, shrugging and watching Charlie out of the corner of my eye to see if he believed the lie.

He did. He was nodding in agreement, taking a bite of the burger.

"I've got a lot of homework and I'm not really hungry." I said, walking out of the room before he got around to giving me helpful hints on how to make friends. If it were Renee, I'd already be reading that Dale Carnegie book; 'How to Win Friends and Influence People,' but I don't think Charlie even owns that book, which is lucky.

I passed the coat rack on the way to the stairs, where Charlie kept his police jacket; gun, handcuffs, and all. When I was little, he'd always been afraid I would shoot myself by accident, so he took the bullets out of the gun. 

As my foot hit the first stair, my brain clicked. A way out. I turned around, and as quietly as I could, removed the gun from the coat pocket, then turned and ran up the stairs.

I sat on my bed upstairs, checking the gun to see if it was loaded. It was. Guess Charlie thought I was responsible. I set it on the bed. I'd have to wait till Charlie was asleep.

The rational voice in my brain was telling me what a bad idea this was, telling me I had so much to live for. What was it? I wasn't living for school; I barely cared about it. Not for people, because I didn't care about them either. In fact, most people I knew, I would have been happier never to see again.

I pulled a paper out of my backpack, which sat open on the floor, and wrote the note:

_I'm sorry. Truly I am. I couldn't do it, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Renee and Charlie, that your daughter was such a screw-up._

That was it. My final words. All I had to do now was wait. About three hours; that was it. I pulled out the homework that would not matter, copying don definitions, with my brain chanting, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry' the entire time.

I'd like to say my life flashed before my eyes. It didn't. All that flashed before them were the pages of a textbook, and those entire three hours, it kept coming to my mind that there were very few people that would care: I was utterly insignificant.

Finally, the clock clicked to the right minute. I picked up the gun, clicking off the safety, and pressed it against my temple, its cold metal sending my brain into a frenzy of last thoughts.

Renee-what would she do?

Phil-I hoped he died.

Charlie-he would find me.

I shook the thoughts out of my head, my finger tensing on the trigger, when the window suddenly sprang open and the gun was ripped from my hand, thrown across the room.

Edward was in front of me, his hand pressed over my mouth to ensure silence.

"Don't scream." He warned, "I'm going to take my hand off your mouth, and you will explain exactly what you were just doing."


	10. Chapter 10

This is basically about how things would have happened if Bella had been an addict

Sorry about the cliffyish ending, but it could have been way, way cliffier. I almost made it that way, but I figured it would make people angry. I almost cut off the part where Edward takes the gun.

I stared at him in complete shock, to amazed that he actually cared to wonder how he knew or what he was doing here.

"You're not going to scream?" He clarified.

"No." 

"Bella, what did you think you were doing?"

"Why do you even care?" I asked, staring, amazed, into his face.

"Most people would ask what I was doing here."

"I'm not. I want to know why you care that I was about to-"

"Kill yourself?"

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off his face. My legs felt like noodles, ready to collapse at any second.

"Why were you doing it?" He asked softly, in a tone of voice that suggested that he thought I was afraid of him.

"Phil." I whispered, and with that one word, all the horror that I'd felt initially came back, along with the shock of what I'd almost done. 

"Bella, he's in Florida. He can't hurt you here." He said.

A sob broke loose from me, and I leaned forward into his chest, mostly to remind myself that I wasn't alone; someone else knew. 

"They're moving here." I whispered, my words barely coherent. He gently wrapped his arms around me, as though he was afraid I might break, and sat on the rocking chair near the wall, pulling me into his lap.

"I won't let him hurt you, Bella." He promised. The sincerity in his voice was impossible to doubt.

"Thanks." I said.

I didn't talk after that. I listened, trying to see if I recognized the lyrics to the song Edward was singing, but after a while, realized there weren't any; it was all notes. I'd never heard the melody before, but it was comforting, and eventually, against my will, I fell asleep.

"Bella!" Charlie's voice came from the other side of the door.

I yawned, opening one eye. The dream I'd been having was too good to wake up from.

"What?" I muttered.

"You were supposed to be awake twenty minutes ago, you're going to be late to school, and I've got to go to work." He rattled off.

I dragged myself out of bed and walked across the cold floor, opening the door to reveal Charlie, wearing his full uniform, including a pistol in his belt. Funny. I wondered how it had gotten back.

"Thanks for waking me up."

"You look better than you did yesterday." He commented. Yeah. No kidding.

He glanced at his watch and announced apologetically that he was late. He went flying out of the house, backing the cruiser out of the driveway at a speed that would have granted a ticket, had there been another officer around.

I yawned, glancing through the closet, wondering if I'd imagined the entire thing last night. I decided on a brown cabled sweater; the exact color of dirt, which there seemed to be none of here-only green. I was pulling my jeans on when I noticed a piece of paper on my desk, on which someone had written:

_I'm picking you up in the morning. Don't try anything suicidal, please._

At that precise moment, there was a knock on the front door. I glanced out the window and saw Edward's Volvo in the same place Charlie had been parked not five minutes before.

I carried my backpack downstairs, its weight nearly making me fall down the stairs. I unlocked the door, with difficulty, and hollered,

"It's open."

The door opened, and Edward was standing there, an amused expression on his face as he watched me try to maneuver the backpack onto my back. Sensing the difficulty I was having, he took it in one hand, barely seeming to feel its weight. 

I stomped after him as he walked out to the car, protesting, "I could carry it!"

"I was trying to be helpful." He said, shoving it in the backseat, "Do you mind getting in the car? You're going to freeze if you just stand there glaring at me."

It _was_ cold, probably due to the snow everywhere, and I wasn't wearing a jacket. The inside of his car was blasting heat, even though the cold hadn't seemed to bother him at all.

"How did you know what I was doing? Last night, I mean?" I asked, once the car was moving.

"It's complicated."

"Of course it's complicated, which is why I'm asking. I don't understand, and I want to."

"That wasn't what I meant." He clarified, "I meant that there are people who will be angry if I tell you."

"Can't you give me a basic overview?" I pleaded. 

"Someone told me."

"That's it? How did they know? I mean, I wasn't going out and announcing my intentions." I said.

"I can't tell you." He said wistfully, obviously wishing that he could.

"Oh. Well, thanks. Although I don't think there's much you can do on the Phil front." I admitted, sending my brain into a panic again at the mention of him.

"You'd be surprised." He muttered, his face changing. For a second, he didn't even look human. He saw me looking at him and changed his expression to a normal one.

"Well, unless you can arrange a hit man." I mused, "But I don't think you'd have too much experience with killing people."

His expression altered so quickly into the same cold, inhuman look that I was sure I'd misspoken.

"You have killed someone, haven't you?" I asked.

"Do you want me to let you out of the car?" He asked quietly.

"No."

"Why?" He asked, shocked.

"You're not the bad guy." I said. It was a terrible excuse, but it was true. There was something about him that was purely good.

"I've _killed_ people. You don't care? You don't want to get away? Bella, I'm dangerous." He insisted.

"You saved me though. Three times. Why would you kill other people and save me?"

"I don't know." He said bitterly, "Your number was up the first time I met you. You should have been dead that first day here. Somehow, you're alive. I think I need to keep you that way."


	11. Chapter 11

This is basically about how things would have happened if Bella had been an addict

Edward was staring at me in frustration.

"But Bella, why don't you care?"

"Why did you do it?" I asked.

"I-I won't say I had to, although it came close to being a necessity. I didn't listen to someone, didn't trust them. I mean, it could have been prevented, but…" His voice trailed off, lost in another time.

"Why though?"

His eyes were agonized. "I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"It's like you-how you won't tell anyone about Phil? Like that. Except my secret is much, much bigger."

He pulled into the school parking lot. As he parked, Jessica Stanley glanced in our direction, her eyes bugging out when she saw me.

"She's going to ambush you in Spanish. She'll want to know why I'm driving you to school. If you want to, I suppose you could tell her your car broke…which is true. She doesn't have to know that it's fixed now…"

"How do you know what she's going to ask? Another one of those 'I can't tell you' questions?" I asked, looking at his face, waiting for him to give something away.

"Yes."

"Can I have one answer?" I pleaded.

"Depends what it is."

"What are you, Edward?"

"Sorry." He said, a crooked smile crossing his lips, "I _really_ can't tell you that one."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Bella, that's the reason for all the secrecy." He said. His face was turned towards me now, the smile gone, replaced with seriousness.

I watched him for a minute, and he almost looked carved from stone. Then I noticed-his eyes were different. They'd been black yesterday, and now they were light, nearly matching his eyes.

Then I did the thing that I'd wanted to do since he had saved me from Port Angeles. I leaned forward, much to his shock, and kissed him. He stayed there for a minute.

I'd always wondered what this would be like-kissing someone I truly liked, not just for show, or because I was high. It was good. It felt solid, like something that I'd messed up before and finally gotten right.

Then he was gone. I barely heard the door close, and when I turned to watch him walk away, he was already all the way across the parking lot, running his fingers through his hair, almost shaking.

Emmett's point of view

Jasper was well over twice the speed limit. That wasn't surprising. He drives even worse than Edward. Edward. Wonder what he's doing right now. Idiot.

"You idiot." Alice muttered, mirroring my thoughts.

"What?" Jasper asked, glancing at her in the backseat.

"Edward. That was stupid." She muttered, shaking her head, "He shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?" Rosalie asked, leaning across me to get a better look at Alice's grim expression.

"And not only is he an idiot, but she's mad. I hope there's not another suicide attempt." Alice muttered to herself.

"What did he _do_?" I asked.

"First of all, he gave her one too many clues-and with that Black boy around, she's going to be able to figure it out. And-" She bit her lip tentatively, "I probably shouldn't say."

"_What_?" Jasper and I demanded in unison.

"You're not going to like it." She warned.

"Well, tell us already!" Rosalie said irritably.

"He kissed her."

The car went silent. Alice looked nervous, obviously regretting giving us the information.

"He did what?" Rosalie whispered.

Alice didn't reply.

"Jasper, stop making me try to calm down!" Rose snapped.

"Rose…don't freak out." I said as calmly as possible, while fighting the urge to go find Edward and wring the idiot's neck.

"Don't you tell me not to freak out!" She snapped, getting out of the car. Were we at school already? I hadn't noticed. I'd been concentrating on the argument.

She slammed the door shut, sending a spray of glass onto her seat, and stalking off without a second glance.

"Rose!" Jasper protested, "That was my window! You think I keep extras just lying around?"

She shrugged and kept on walking. As she disappeared into the school, Edward came into view, walking towards the car, looking worried.

"Hello." He said quietly.

"You made my window break!" Jasper accused him.

"What?"

"Rosalie broke his window because she was mad at you." I explained.

Edward glanced at the glass scattered across the seats.

"Edward, what were you thinking?" Alice asked, her voice barely audible, even to us, "You could have killed her!"

"I realize that. Why do you think I left?" He asked.

"And," Alice continued, starting to look angry now, "you as good as told her. She's going to figure it out now."

Jessica _did_ ambush me in Spanish-how Edward had known, I couldn't imagine. She leaned over and whispered, "What's the deal with Edward Cullen?"

"What about him?" I asked.

"You were in his _car_ this morning." She hissed back.

"My truck broke. He gave me a ride to school." I explained, feeling a twinge of anger at him.

"Oh." Jessica said, a little disappointed, leaning back into her seat.

Given the interrogation, I wasn't thrilled with the idea of spending an entire forty-minute lunch with the resident gossip queen, so I went to the loneliest corner of the cafeteria and proceeded to eat my lunch.

The Cullens came in, all together. Like a pack, I thought resentfully, still wondering why he'd run away.

Then, much to my surprise, Alice came floating over to my table, a huge grin on her face, looking like a fairy stolen from the realms of fantasy.

"Hi, Bella!" She said, sitting down.

I stared, fork suspended three inches from my mouth, staring at her.

"You can eat, you know. I'm not going to bite you or anything." She said, giggling near the end.

"What do you want?"

"Edward's angry." She informed me, inspecting a dot on the table.

"Great. Just what I need right now; someone mad at me."

"Oh, no, he's madder at himself." Alice explained, tracing her finger on the table, making invisible letters.

"Why?" I asked.

"He's right; you _do _ask too many questions."

"None of which you can answer?" I said angrily.

"Nope. Not my job. I mean, if Edward wants to, he can…I think he should tell you…you're good for him." She decided.

"Tell me what? Wait…good for him?" I stuttered, unable to imagine how I could be good for anyone.

Alice gave me an odd grin, like Edward's, but more mischievous. "You'll find out eventually."

(A/N) Bad place to end a chapter, but I need help. So, in the next chapter, I think Bella's going to find out. I'm trying to figure out _how_ she should, and getting stuck. I'm using the best suggestion I get.


	12. DUN DUN DUN

I walked out of gym, back in my normal clothes, pulling my hair out of its ponytail

I walked out of gym, back in my normal clothes, pulling my hair out of its ponytail. Thank God it was Friday. I couldn't take another day of volleyball.

"You're going the wrong way." A voice told me.

I turned around. Edward was walking behind me, seemingly having come out of nowhere.

"How do you always do that?" I groaned.

"It's not my fault you're unobservant." He said, "And like I said, the parking lot is the opposite direction."

"I don't have a car at school today."

"I was assuming that I would be taking you home."

I rolled my eyes. He was walking next to me now, slowly trying to herd me in the general direction of his car.

"Why'd you run off?" I asked.

"Hard to explain." He said, avoiding my eyes.

"Coming out of nowhere to save people's lives, dragging people off into the woods, and your freaky eyes? There's got to be some explanation. And Jessica-she did interrogate me. How'd you know?"

"What if I explained only one of those? Would that make you happy? At least, happy enough to let me drive you home and not run the risk of accidentally getting run over?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Start explaining."

He spoke in a whisper, so as not to let anyone else overhear.

"The Jessica incident-I'll explain that one."

"Really? I was hoping you'd tell me how you always manage to stop me from dying."

"Nope. Jessica. Deal or no deal?"

"Who are you, Howie Mandel?" I grumbled, "Fine, explain that one."

"I read her mind." He said matter-of-factly.

"No you didn't." I snorted.

"Yes Bella, I did." He insisted seriously, his eyes intense, trying to communicate something vital to me.

"Right. What am I thinking right now?"

"I don't know." He growled, "I can't read your mind. You're the only one, actually."

"Of course. You do realize that I wasn't born yesterday, don't you?"

"Comparatively, you were." He mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I shot back, "Are you some hundred-year-old guy in a seventeen-year-old suit? Hmm?"

"Something like that." He muttered, his mouth twitching, hiding a grin.

"What's wrong with you?"

He didn't answer, preferring to give me a cryptic look, the crooked smile making me forget what I was going to say next.

"Bella, we're never going to get to the parking lot if you just stand there staring at me." He pointed out.

Heat crept up my cheeks, and I realized that I'd stopped walking. I kept going, avoiding his eyes. Soon, we were at the car. Edward opened the passenger door for me, a perfect gentleman.

"I could have opened the door." I muttered.

"So could I." Edward said, closing the door. As he walked around the car, I noticed a dog-eared book between the seats, with 'Wuthering Heights' printed on its spine. I picked it up, examining the front cover. On the torn paper, in my clumsy handwriting, was written Property of Bella Swan.

"Edward." I said as he started the car, "What is this doing here?"

He shrugged guiltily.

"You stole it. Do you just make a career out of stealing things? Drugs and books?"

"I was going to return it." He said sheepishly.

"I was looking for it the other day. I thought I'd left it in Florida."

"Speaking of Florida," Edward said, "when are Phil and Renee moving up here?"

"Five days." I said miserably.

"I'm sorry." He said. I was looking down at the book, flipping through the pages, but I saw him tentatively stretch out his hand towards me before pulling it back.

"At least someone is." I said, lifting my head and looking at him. His eyes were soft, full of compassion. I turned another page absentmindedly, slicing my finger on the edge of the paper.

"Ouch." I mumbled, frowning at the tiny cut.

Edward gave a sharp intake of breath, which came out as a string of profanities, barely audible, and too fast to make out any distinct words, not that I would have wanted to. The car swerved to the side of the grass, into the grassy shoulder. Edward got out of the car, slamming the door, and leaned against the glass.

"What's wrong?" I asked, opening my door.

"Stay in the car for a minute-please." He said stonily.

"Why? Did it break down? What was with that driving?"

"Bella, please."

I scowled, irritated. I walked around the car, unable to make myself truly angry with him. He was leaned against the side of the car, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What just happened? You insist on driving me home and start driving like a maniac for no reason." I said.

"Stop waving your hands everywhere." He said, "You're not helping."

"Helping what?" I asked irritably.

"Will you get in the car please?"

"Fine." I growled, stomping around the car. He took a deep breath and got in. I started glancing through the book again, afraid to look at him; he seemed so angry.

He drove the rest of the way home at triple the speed limit, not looking at me. When we got to the house, he stopped in front of it and waited for me to get out, not saying a word. He was still enough to be stone, not even seeming to breathe.

A car pulled into the driveway, towing an enormous U-Haul trailer behind it. I closed my eyes, shutting out the dismal view my window was giving me.

"Bella!" Charlie called, "Phil and your mother are here. Please come down."

I glared through the floor in his general direction before dragging myself out of bed, putting Wuthering Heights back on its shelf, and stomping down the stairs.

Charlie was panicking. He didn't react well to speaking with my mother, as had been demonstrated on several occasions, most of which I had managed to erase from my memory. All three incidents had been phone calls, one involving our neighbors calling the police and the other two ending with Renee cutting the phone cord in half with sewing scissors.

The doorbell rang, and Charlie's eyes widened in horror as he glanced at the window.

"I'll get it." I offered, heading for the door.

"Hey, Mom. Hey Phil." I said, trying to keep the venom out of my voice. My eyes nearly exploded when I saw Renee. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and had been dyed a disturbing shade of red. What had she been thinking? More importantly, what had Phil been thinking when he let her dye it that color.

"Bella!" Renee cried exuberantly, throwing her arms around me. Phil stayed behind her, surveying me with his dark eyes.

"How are you doing?" She asked, "I was so worried about you! You haven't been getting into trouble have you?"

She didn't bother waiting for my answer, but charged into the kitchen, saying, "Charlie? Charlie, has Bella been in trouble? Have you been keeping her away from boys? She had a lot of issues with them back home."

Oh, she had no idea. Speaking of which-

"Hi, Phil." I said nervously.

"Hello, Bella." He said, "Nice to see you again."

I had a ridiculously strong urge to hit him just then, but just managed to restrain myself, digging my fingernails into my palm and forcing a smile. Although I couldn't have said why, Edward's voice popped into my head, telling me to stay away from Phil. I didn't know what business Edward's voice had being in my head, since he'd disappeared right after dropping me off, not showing up to school with the rest of the Cullens the next week.

I went into the kitchen to join Charlie, who was being interrogated by Renee .

"And she hasn't been drinking?"

Charlie stared at her, bewildered.

"Mom, I've been being very well behaved. I've only smoked six joints and been to three orgies since I've gotten here."

She smiled, the tension going out of her shoulders. "Do you like it here?"

"Yes, it's interesting." I was referring, of course, to the enigma of the drug-stealing, room-sneaking-into, disappearing Edward Cullen.

"Good. So, Bella, you're helping us move in tomorrow, right? Do you want to stay the night then?" "No!" I said, too fast, raising the eyebrows of Charlie and Renee, "I mean, I'd rather stay here until there are actually beds in your house."

She grinned. "I completely understand. I don't like sleeping on couches or floors either."

"Um, do you guys want to have dinner all together?" Charlie asked, "We can go to the Lodge."

"Sure!" Renee agreed, "The airplane food was terrible, and I'm starved."

Dinner was awkward. Renee kept asking me questions about every conceivable subject, while I tried to avoid Phil's eyes and ignore the wistful looks that Charlie was giving Renee. Just being around all of them made me want to scream. It was so obvious that Charlie cared many times more for Renee than Phil did, and Phil himself made me feel anxious. I watched my watch, and as soon as we were done eating, Charlie and I left, both of us relieved to do so.

"This-uh-is really heavy." I grunted, trying to lift a box with 'Renee's Books' scrawled across it in her messy cursive.

"Here." Phil offered, "I'll help you with that."

"Thanks." I grumbled, entertaining the thought of trying to drop the box onto his foot. Maybe I'd be lucky enough to break it. Maybe I could drop the box and cripple him

"This goes upstairs." He told me. As I walked backwards up the staircase, I wondered what would happen if I reported him to Charlie-he was a policeman, and since I was Charlie's daughter, he would make it a priority to get Phil in jail. No, I couldn't tell him. I couldn't. One time-a long time ago-he'd threatened to hurt Renee if I told. He knew it would keep me quiet.

"So, you been telling Charlie any horror stories about me?" Phil asked, sounding lighthearted, but with an edge of menace to his voice.

"No." I said, gritting my teeth, telling myself not to do anything stupid. But I'd told Edward. Did that count? If he found out, he'd be angry, but would he do anything to Renee?

"Who did you tell?" He demanded, stopping at the top of the stairs, staring at me. I wished he hadn't been able to read my face.

"Nobody." I whispered. A hand slammed across my face, the wedding band cutting into my skin. The shock made me drop the box, and it landed, just as I had predicted, on Phil's foot, with a resonating crack.

"Ahh!" He shouted, crumpling to the floor, clutching his foot.

I ran down the stairs, knowing I was going to regret this.

A/N: Cliffy. Nice of me, wasn't it? Heh, heh, heh. I may or may not get another chapter up before tomorrow, but regardless of how many chapters I get up, I won't be back until Saturday, so I expect lots of reviews in my inbox when I get back. Can we get up to 200? Pretty please? And, here's a challenge:

Whoever can come up with the most creative death for Phil, I'll write a side chapter (not part of the actual story) on it.


	13. I finally updated! woo hoo!

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! We're over two hundred in less than ten hours!

The Phil challenge is still on…it's going to stay for two more chapters before I choose a winner. By the way, the Emmett in a bikini suggestion was fabulous. I laughed so hard…the idea for the 'Kill Phil' contest came from 'Healing her Wounds' If you get a chance, read it.

"Drive faster!" Renee insisted, even though I'd already told her six times that the truck couldn't possibly move one mile per hour faster than it already was.

"The hospital is right here." I said, swerving into the ER entrance. I dropped Renee and Phil off next to the door, and Phil hobbled in, using Renee's shoulder as a crutch. I found a parking spot-the farthest one from the entrance, just so Phil would have to use his crutches to go across the entire parking lot.

By the time I got in the hospital, Renee and Phil had already been taken to a room, leaving me to sit in the lobby and flip through magazines.

"Bella?" A voice said, startling me out of my daze. It was Carlisle, sitting in the chair next to me. I wondered how long he'd been there.

"Oh." I said, closing the magazine, "Hi."

"He's in pain and she's hysterical, so I assume you're the only one who can tell me what happened."

"I accidentally dropped a box on his foot." I explained, "It was very heavy and I lost my grip."

"Right." He said, scribbling something on his clipboard, "That's a good enough story, but you're going to want to lie more convincingly when you tell it to Renee."

"How did you-?"

"Bella, what happened to your cheek?"

My hand flew to the cut. "Is it bruised?"

He nodded.

"I tripped." I quickly invented, "Renee and Phil have these glass cabinets, and I tripped over one and cut myself."

He frowned, obviously not believing me.

"You haven't gotten any more drugs, have you?"

"No, thanks to your son. I don't suppose you'd know how he keeps saving my life, would you?"

"Tell your dad he's welcome." He said, getting up and walking off.

Renee and Phil emerged from the cast room twenty minutes later. Renee was holding an X-ray. I didn't know why they'd bothered to take the X-ray, because his foot was very obviously broken. Phil had a white cast on his leg, and was trying to maneuver his crutches. Have fun trying to play baseball like _that_.

"Bella!" Renee cried, rushing over to me, "Do you mind pulling the car up? What happened to your cheek, honey?"

"I tripped on one of the boxes and hit a tree." Hopefully she and Carlisle didn't become too close of friends…they didn't actually own glass cabinets, but that had been the first thing to come to me.

"Oh." She said, trying to remember which tree there were boxes next to.

I walked out, now regretting parking so far away, as it didn't end up benefiting me at all.

I drove the car up to the entrance, where Renee helped Phil into the backseat, then sat next to me.

"What exactly happened to your foot?" She asked.

"I accidentally dropped the box we were holding." I told her, "It weighed about a hundred pounds-how many books do you own?"

"Actually, about half of them were yours that you left with us."

Excellent. They'd have places of honor on my bookshelves for breaking Phil's foot.

"Oh. Oops. Hey, do you mind if I drop you guys off at your house and go back to Dad's? I've got homework."

"Oh, that's right. Today is Thursday. You _do _have school."

I stopped in front of their house and let the two of them out before stepping on the gas and pealing out of the driveway.

"How was moving?" Charlie asked, letting me into the house.

"I accidentally broke Phil's foot." I admitted. I could have sworn I saw a grin flit across his face, but it disappeared too quickly for me to be completely sure.

"I ordered pizza." He said, leading me into the kitchen, "Billy and Jacob are coming over for a game."

They got there about ten minutes later, Jacob rolling Billy into the house, looking bigger than he had a week ago.

"Hey Bella!" He said enthusiastically. Charlie and Billy exchanged a look. Oh, no. They weren't trying to set us up, were they?

"Hi Jacob." I said, sliding a piece of pizza onto my plate.

"Didn't your mom move here yesterday?" He asked. Like he didn't already know. He and Charlie gossiped worse than old women.

"Yeah…they tried to move in today, but Phil ended up in the hospital. He broke his foot. Oh, by the way Dad, Dr. Cullen says you're welcome. I think he was referring to the message you left on his answering machine last week."

Billy's face froze when I said 'Cullen.' Interesting. Maybe he knew something.

"When did you see Dr. Cullen?" Charlie asked, not noticing Billy's expression.

"At the hospital. He was Phil's doctor. He came out and talked to me, because Phil and Renee were too hysterical to tell him anything. Do you know him, Billy?" I asked innocently.

"No, why?" He asked.

"Just the look on your face." I said sweetly. Jacob rolled his eyes, seeming to know what I was talking about.

"It's just a legend." He mumbled. Billy glared at him, and Jacob suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.

Later, after dinner, while the game was still going on, I was in the kitchen washing dishes. Jacob had followed me, probably in an effort to get away from Billy's evil eye.

"What legend were you talking about?" I asked quietly.

"You remember that one I told you? About the cold ones?"

I nodded, handing him a plate and towel and gesturing for him to dry.

"Nobody on the reservation really likes the Cullens. They say that the legends are based on them. It's completely ridiculous."

I giggled, nearly dropping a plate. "You guys think the Cullens are vampires?"

"I told you it was ridiculous. Probably, some people showed up one day when it was snowing. Then, they would have been cold and pale. They probably didn't have any way of cooking their food, which would have been why they ate things raw. And maybe the people saw these guys in two different kind of light, which would have accounted for the eyes changing color."

"You didn't mention that before." I said, something clicking in my brain, making this more plausible.

"The legend says that their eyes changed color. What I'm saying is, if you see someone when it's dark, then their eyes are going to look darker than they would during the day."

I let him keep talking, not really interested anymore. Edward's eyes changed between gold and black. His skin was very pale and cold, and he'd freaked out when I cut myself. Oh no. This could not be good.

"Bella, you okay?" Jacob asked, "You look kind of freaked out."

"Um, no. I am not okay. I feel…I think I'm going to go lay down."

I went upstairs, grabbing the phonebook and phone off the hall table. I shut the door to my room and sat on my bed, flipping through the phonebook.

"Cullen, Cullen. Where are the C's?" I asked. It wasn't that big of a book. They shouldn't be this hard to find. Aha! Here they were, on page fifteen. I picked up the phone and dialed the number, my fingers trembling.

"Hello?" A booming voice answered.

"Emmett?" I guessed, "Can I talk to Edward?"

"No, actually I'm Alice." He laughed, "Just kidding. EDWARD!"

Almost immediately, the voice changed, muttering, "You didn't have to yell. I could have heard you." Then saying louder, "Bella? How did you get this number?"

"There's this magical invention called a phonebook." I told him. I heard people laughing in the background. "Am I on speakerphone?"

"You might as well be. Just a minute." I heard a door open and close.

"Edward, I need to talk to you. Now. It's important."

"What?"

"In person. Are you going to school tomorrow?"

"Possibly."

"Good. Pick me up, please. Seven. It's serious."

There was silence for a minute as he thought about it, then he said, "Fine. Seven."


	14. Chapter 14

"Drive faster

A/N Please excuse the ridiculous amount if dashes—I'm a little bit obsessed with them at the moment. I'm being consumed by them right now, and in the original story I'm working on, there's practically more dashes than sentences.

Remember, the 'Kill Phil' contest—which has nothing to do with the movie 'Kill Bill'—is still going on. It's going to end after the next chapter, so send me your stupid-death-scene ideas.

The next morning, I was astounded when Edward's car pulled into the driveway at seven exactly, not even a second late.

"That was impressive." I told him as I got into the car, surprised that I didn't feel any more wary of him than normal, even though I knew what he was.

"Just ask." He said, pulling out of the driveway and starting off in the opposite direction than normal.

"How did you know I was going to as a question?"

"Don't make me answer that. I'd rather not have to lie to you." He said.

"Do you believe in vampires?" I asked. He didn't look surprised. Had he somehow known what I was going to ask? "You did lie!"

"About what?" He asked, utterly confused.

"You said you could read minds! I didn't believe you! But you can…you said you couldn't read mine…that wasn't true, was it?"

"Yes it was. I found out what you were going to ask from someone else."

"Who?"

"Do you want to talk about where I get my information from or vampires?" He asked, "Honestly, you are one of the strangest people I've ever—"

"Answer the vampire question." I interrupted.

"Yes."

That was good…my theory might actually be correct. I closed my eyes and let the pent-up question escape. "Edward, you're one, aren't you?"

The reply was barely audible, and I might not have heard in if I hadn't known what it was going to be—"Yes."

I waited for fear to build itself in my chest, launching me away from him, but the terror didn't come, and I was surprised to realize that I wasn't any more afraid of Edward than I had been when I'd gotten in the car.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Edward said, more to convince himself than to reassure me.

"I know." As the words left my mouth, I felt the trueness of them, and I realized that Edward was the only person I had never lied to.

"You broke Phil's foot." Edward commented, as if we hadn't just been talking about him being an undead creature. Still, I couldn't imagine him being a monster-he had an undoubtedly good air about him.

"Yeah." I didn't have to pretend I was sorry for it around him—he was the only one who knew how I really felt about Phil, "Carlisle tell you?"

"Yes. He also told me that you tripped over a glass cabinet. The bruise is bigger than Carlisle's thoughts indicated." He said, leaning forward so that he could get a better look at my face, "Did he hit you before or after you dropped the box on him?"

"Before." I said quietly, scared of Edward's anger—I was used to people taking things out on me.

"So, was the box-attack intentional revenge or merely an instinctive reaction?"

"A little of both." I said, "Although, if I'd known how to break his foot, I'd have done it much sooner."

"If I'd known he was going to hit you, I would have broken _both_ his legs before he had the chance."

"Really?" I asked incredulously, "You'd do that?"

"It would be fairly suspicious, but if the suspicion weren't a factor, I'd do it in a heartbeat—although, since I don't have a heartbeat, I suppose that isn't saying a whole lot."

I giggled, realizing the absurdity of the situation. "You know what's weird? I've never really felt _safe_ before, but now I do. Ironic that a vampire would make me feel secure, isn't it?"

"I'm more surprised that you haven't started interrogating me."

"Did you _want _me to?" I asked.

"I thought you might be curious. About my diet, among other things."

I was wondering…" I admitted, "Wouldn't the authorities notice if a bunch of people went missing? Especially in a town this small…I'd think you'd live in a bigger city—Seattle, maybe."

"We don't eat people."

"We?"

"I meant to say 'I'" He corrected.

"No you didn't—who's the rest of the 'we'?"

"They don't want me to tell you." He said, "They're angry that you figured out, except for Carlisle—I don't think it's physically possible for him to be mad."

"So all of your family? None of them are human?"

Edward shook his head solemnly. I glanced up at the road for the first time and noticed that this was the wrong road—we were not going to school. This was an unfamiliar street that I hadn't ever been on before, and despite my confidence that Edward wasn't going to hurt me, the fact that he hadn't mentioned the unusual direction scared me.

"Where are we going?" I demanded.

"My house. I thought you might panic—even though you're not, there's absolutely no way I'm letting you anywhere near school today. I need to make sure you calm down and don't tell anyone anything that might tip them off."

"Tip them off? You talk like the entire school is looking for proof that you're vampires."

"Yes, well—wouldn't want you accidentally giving anything away. Rosalie might just kill you." The remark was meant to be offhand, but Edward didn't seem to realize the implications this might have on a confused human.

"What?" I demanded.

"Sorry." He muttered, "Forget I said anything."

"You were going to kill me, weren't you? That first day in the woods, you were about to—until I fainted, and…why didn't you?"

He bit his lip, turning and looking directly into his eyes, confusion in his golden ones. "I don't know."

I was sorely tempted to say something along the lines of 'Well, that's reassuring,' but I bit my tongue, wondering if that would make him feel guilty.

"And in the car—when I cut my finger?" I asked, fairly sure of the answer.

"Then too. It was even harder then—smelling the blood is worse than smelling just a person. I don't know how I've managed to keep you alive." He said, grimacing.

"If it's so hard for you to resist, why do you come to a school? And if you're a vampire who doesn't eat people, what do you eat?"

"Animals. And anyway, _everyone _isn't so hard to resist. Some are worse than others."

"And I'm one of the ones that's harder to restrain yourself from?" I asked.

"Yes. You do smell better when you're not on drugs though." He added, "Cleaner."

"I'm not getting the drugs back then." I said.

"No. You seem to be recovering. No passing out, no hallucinations—at least, none that I know of."

The car was pulling into a long driveway where trees hung out over the road like a canopy. When the house came into view, I looked at it intently, as though seeing it for the first time—it was the first time I'd seen it properly, because last time I'd come here, I'd been unconscious. Edward was stopped the car, and was almost immediately at my door, chauffeuring me out of the car.

"How long are you keeping me here?" I asked, glancing up at the huge, white house.

"Carlisle's going to want to talk to you, so at least until lunchtime—that's the soonest he'll be able to leave the hospital. And Esme's making you cookies—she doesn't have any humans to force her cooking on, so she's using you. I'm sorry." He apologized, leading me towards the front door, "She likes the cooking channel, and she started looking for recipes to try on you as soon as Alice saw—" His mouth froze in the middle of the sentence, looking like a kid that's been caught breaking the rules.

"Alice? What do you mean, 'saw'? Does this have something to do with your mind-reading? Is it like that?"

He sighed, leaning against the car. "Alice sees things. I don't know how it works, but—"

"Sees things? Like the future?" I asked.

EPOV

I was telling her too much. This was very wrong. This was a relationship that nothing would come of—we would have to do something with her to ensure that she didn't tell anyone.

But still…I'd told her, sure that she would be afraid. Sure that she would fight her way out of the car and run, screaming away from me. She hadn't though. She still wasn't. She was treating me perfectly normally, like I was a human, someone who had never tried or even wanted to hurt her.

And why did I feel so protective of her? Even though I knew it shouldn't, the dark shadow Phil had cast on her cheek sent a wave of anger through me, so strong that Jasper could probably feel it, four miles away. I wanted to protect her, for the same unknown reason that I loved her. I shouldn't feel this way. It wasn't natural.

She was walking up to the house, apparently irritated by my lack of words. I followed, quickly going pas her and opening the door. Her irritation melted into a smile, one that made her sad eyes come to life, and I felt a smile on my face as well.

"Thank you." She said, stepping into the house. Esme was walking into the foyer, holding a cookie pan in her bare hands—it had obviously just come out of the oven, but the heat of it wouldn't bother her.

_Hi Edward. You're smiling. That's a nice change._ She thought at me, at the same time offering the tray of cookies to Bella, who took one graciously. I wondered how they would taste. She took a bite. Judging from her expression, not bad.

"I'm Esme." She said, balancing the pan on one hand and offering the other to Bella, "I'm sorry Edward and Carlisle are insisting on keeping you hostage."

She shrugged, the smile still in place. "Most kidnappers don't give their victims chocolate chip cookies—it's okay."

Esme smiled and directed her thoughts towards me again. _You told her?_

I nodded, so slightly that Bella didn't notice.

_Good._ She thought, smiling at me.

Bella was looking around the living room now, her eyes always going back to my piano.

"Do you play?" Esme asked her.

"No." Bella said, "I used to—before Mom and Phil got married. We were traveling so much during baseball season that I had to quit. Whose is it?"

"It's mine." I said.

Her eyes widened, pleasantly surprised. Her grin became more pronounced, and she sat at the piano bench and began playing out a song—Heart and Soul—and watched me expectantly until I sat next to her, put my hands to the keys, and joined her with the harmony. Esme left, leaving the cookies on top of the entertainment center.

"So." She said, stopping the music, "What else do you play? I'm curious now—I had no idea you were musical."

"I write music sometimes." I admitted, one song immediately springing to mind; the one I'd written, thinking about her.

"I tried that once." She said, grinning, "It wasn't good, so now I just stick to playing other people's music. Or, I used to. I haven't played in ages."

I started playing, barely noticing what I was doing; the music was a part of me, almost as natural as thought. I was playing her song—Bella's personality was woven through the melody in every note.

"I like this one." She said softly, "What's it called?"

"It's your song. You inspired it." I told her softly.

A flash of recognition registered on her face. "I remember—I heard you humming this once. It's beautiful."

A/N: I'll end it there. I haven't updated in a while, and this is my longest chapter ever—over 2000 words, so be happy. I promise, this is going somewhere; it's just taking a while. The next four chapters should contain some good action. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with a couple of the characters (Renee, Charlie, Phil) because I don't want the action to all fade away and make this story exactly like Twilight, so don't worry, Bella's going to do something excessively stupid next chapter.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N Thank you for the reviews

A/N Thank you for the reviews! I'm up to 272 right now. Can we get up to 300? Maybe? This _is_ the last kill Phil chapter.

Read, Review, have a nice weekend.

The bathroom was enormous, with hairspray, hairbrushes, and makeup littered over every counter. Edward had been right when he said that this was Alice's 'happy place.' He was still downstairs, playing the piano, having directed me as to where the bathroom was.

As I went to the sink turning on the faucet to wash my hands, something caught my eye. The mirror-plated medicine cabinet was open, just a crack. My curiosity clicked into high gear as I watched my own hand approach the glass, then slide the door open—quietly, because I was aware of how much more Edward heard.

In the cabinet were many of the same things scattered around the bathroom—makeup and hair products—but there was also something else, something I knew was dangerous; something that I knew I should walk away from right now and go back to Edward's music downstairs.

My hand was moving of its own volition, propelled by the instinct of my brain, which was bringing back every symptom of withdrawal that I hadn't been experiencing in the last couple of days. I held the plastic bag in my hand; the one Edward had taken from me, with the pills still inside it. Half of me want to right now, take every pill in the bag, while the other told me sternly to put the drugs down, walk downstairs, and tell Edward to get them out of the house before I did anything stupid.

The addict side won. Not completely—remembering what Edward had said about my smell and realizing that he would notice if I took drugs right now, I realized that that wasn't the best course of action, and instead, stuffed the baggie in my pocket, smoothing it out so it was as flat as possible, shut off the faucet, and went back downstairs, as nonchalant as possible.

The music was still being played, flowing from the piano gracefully, and turning my triumph at having found the drugs into intense, horrible guilt. I wanted to give in to my good side, but the addict had clamped my mouth shut, forcing me to smile and say nothing.

"What song was that?" I asked, sliding onto the piano bench next to him.

"I don't know what it's called. It's from when I was human, but in all these years, I've never been able to find its name." He said, smiling at me with such intensity that I thought I might melt with the radiance of it,

"Are you okay?" He asked.

_No_, I wanted to say,_ No I'm not Okay. I'm an addict, and I have a problem, and for some odd reason, I just want to kiss you right now, Edward Cullen._

What _he_ heard was "Yes. I'm fine."

His mouth twisted slightly, obviously dissatisfied with my answer. "Are you sure?"

I stared at him, spellbound by him, opening my mouth to tell him, when the front door swung open, and Carlisle came in, his eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw us sitting so close on the piano bench.

"Hello, Bella." He said, moving in an exaggeratedly slow way, obviously trying to make himself look as non-threatening as possible—he probably thought that I was afraid.

"Hello." I told him. Edward let out a cough of a laugh, and I wondered what had crossed Carlisle's mind.

"Esme asked me to come home on my lunch break. She told me Edward was holding you hostage here until we were sure you weren't going to go around telling everyone."

"It's not that I don't trust you." Edward interjected hurriedly, his words strengthening the guilt, "It's just that I think Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper need some reassurance."

"I don't mind being a hostage." I said, my smile becoming more and more painful, "The piano playing was beautiful."

"I think there are some things you need to know." Carlisle said, sitting on a black leather couch next to the piano, "Any specific questions?"

"Are most vampires like you? I mean—animals instead of humans."

Edward and Carlisle exchanged a brief look, and then Edward filled me in.

"There's only one other coven we know of—in Alaska. The rest are…" His words trailed away, not wanting to say the rest.

"Why don't more covens do it? Is it harder?"

"Extremely difficult." Edward said.

"It depends." Carlisle explained, "Different people are more…appetizing…" He waited for any adverse reaction, but I had none. "to different vampires. Some people are fairly easy to abstain from, whereas others…" His eyes followed a path from me to Edward and back again.

EPOV

I watched her face closely for any sign of fear at the explanation Carlisle was giving her. There was none. She calmly asked questions, behaving as if this were absolutely the most normal thing in all the heavens and earth for her to be doing, all the while giving me looks that were a mixture of wonder and guilt.

I wondered what the guilt was for. Did she feel guilty that she had found out my secret—no, that didn't make sense. After a while, I stopped thinking about it, stopped listening to Carlisle, and just watched Bella as her expression shuffled through a wide array of emotions, from an almost spiritual awe at Carlisle's abstinence from humans to fury at the fact that Rosalie didn't think her trustworthy.

_Edward, focus. You keep staring at her like that, you're going to forget and slip up._ Carlisle warned.

He was right, of course. I took a deep breath, inhaling the potent scent of flowers, the desire to stay away from her waning, venom flowing in my mouth, until—

_Edward!_ The thought was strong, and hit me so hard that I nearly fell off the bench. Carlisle had stopped his explanation to glare at me with a ferocity never seen on his normally placid face, _control yourself._

Bella was confused now, looking from me to Carlisle with no understanding of what was going on in the least. She hadn't noticed me, having been looking at Carlisle, but the look on his face and pause in conversation were enough to draw her attention.

"I'll be right back." I muttered, standing up from the piano and going outside, much too fast for a human. I leaned against the side of the house, drawing in deep calming breaths, free of Bella's scent. If Carlisle had waited another second to think something, would he have been able to stop me? I couldn't think about it.

I heard them talking inside; Bella asking, "What's wrong with him?"

Carlisle deliberated, wanting to answer this delicately. "He's…"

_Should I?_ He asked through the wall. I tapped my foot against the concrete two times—two letters in no. I was going to do it. It was my responsibility.

"It's really his thing to tell, not mine." Carlisle told her apologetically. In my mind, I could see her, nodding slowly, her fingers dancing on the piano keys, fingering out a song without pressing hard enough on the keys to make any noise, then her voice came dancing out of the house.

"I'll ask him." Her footsteps came, softly at first, then louder as she approached the front door, then flung it open to see me, standing there.

My breath was suddenly cut off by the realization that any slip-up of the same nature as the one five minutes ago might end up with her dead.

What's wrong?" She asked, eyebrows scrunching together, her arms folded across her chest, obviously worried.

It's—" The urge to tell her was very strong, the urge to have no secrets—to see if this last, most awful one would make her afraid; would push her over the edge.

"Tell me, please." She said, stepping closer to me, making concentration even harder.

"You don't realize how hard this is for me." I said, trying not to breathe, "If you were anyone else…I'm never met anyone that smelled so…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run out. I need to keep a better hold on myself."

"You said 'extremely difficult,'" She mused, taking a step closer, "Is that why? Because I smell different? Is it like Carlisle said, some people smell more appetizing?"

"_La tua cantante._"

She raised her eyebrows, wondering at the meaning of the foreign words, and I explained. "It means singer…it's a name for people like you. They say your blood sings for me."

"_La tua cantante._" Bella repeated, getting the inflection wrong, but still making the words sound poetic.

I nodded. An odd urge struck me at that moment. It was a bad idea—exceedingly so—but logic was evading me at that moment. I took a step towards her, closing the distance between us, putting one hand lightly around her waist and using the other to tip her chin up so she was looking directly into my eyes, and surprisingly, I wasn't at all tempted to hurt her as I lowered my face to hers and kissed her.

A/N: You happy? Better be. Emilee has a very hard time writing romancey scenes. But there was the kiss—the real one, where nobody runs away. (Cough Edward cough) I hope you're still liking the POV changes…Bella is now feeling very, very guilty—more about her guilt next chapter, where you will be seeing more Phil and Renee and less Edward (Despite the fact that I like Jacob more, I'm disappointed that Edward won't be around much next chapter)

And, final thing: There's a poll going on. Should I make Phil kill Renee or have Renee stay alive and end up with Charlie, because that's going to be one of the sub-plots…right now, I'm leaning towards killing Renee, because people seem to like this much more when Bella's depressed.


	16. Chapter 17

A/N Thank you for the reviews

A/N: Hullo! I have a beta now, SpannyMare, whose stories are much better than mine. If you get the time, be sure to check out her stories, because they are very good, especially 'Breaking Twilight,' which has nowhere near as many readers as it deserves.

Thanks to everyone who wished me luck at my math competition. I got 2nd in Theta Applications (crazy hard word problems) and 14th in functions (freaky equations and graphing) which makes me incredibly happy. I'll start writing now, because you don't care about math.

BPOV

The ride home was both wonderful and awful. Good because of Edward, singing along with a fifties station, driving with one hand and holding mine with the other. Bad because of the guilt the pounded me. I felt sure that soon, it would make me explode, and Edward would know what I had done.

I was torn between telling him and letting him think I was wonderful, sweet, and all of the other falsehoods that I had let him believe. It was the kiss that kept my mouth shut—my first 'real' kiss—real being defined as one that I didn't regret. I couldn't tell him, because if I did, he wouldn't feel the same; he'd hate me, leaving me with only one real kiss in a lifetime of regretted ones.

But he never seemed to notice. I felt like the music was trying to kill me, bombarding me with harmony when I felt so horrible. I was relieved when the car pulled up to Charlie's.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Oh, please, please stop looking at me like that, Edward Cullen. You don't know what I've done, my brain screamed.

"For not being afraid." His eyes burned, the gold in them becoming molten, dazzling me into speechlessness. He gave me a kiss on the cheek just before I got out of the car. As soon as he could no longer see my face, I bit my lip, fighting against the tears threatening me.

I unlocked the house and went in, wrapping my arms around myself as I fell onto the couch, the tears loosing themselves and staining the couch. A thought wormed into my brain, filling it with one repeating thought.

_You can make yourself feel better. You can make yourself forget the pain._

It was the addict again, coming back, knocking the idea around in my head, until my hand moved, unbidden, to my pocket, pulling out the bag I'd stolen. I stared at the pills inside, hating myself as I reached in, pulled two out, and swallowed them. I stuffed the bag back in my pocket, squelching the urge to take more, and hating myself for wanting to. My arms wrapped around my legs, holding me together, despite the misery that wanted to tear me up.

I flipped an omelet on the frying pan, whistling to myself. The front door opened and closed.

"Hey, Bells." Charlie's voice rang from the foyer.

"Hi Dad!" My voice was oddly perky—maybe it was somehow related to the way I felt, as if I were floating above the ground.

"How was your day?"

"It was great." I'd been upset about something, hadn't I? There had been something wrong, after I'd come home from Edward's, but I couldn't remember what.

"Renee is coming to pick you up—she and Phil have you for the next four nights. She said to remind you that you didn't need to pack clothes; she has most of them at her house."

Phil. He was there. No. No, I couldn't go. I wouldn't. Phil would—he would—no, I wouldn't let him. I looked down at my thin arms and legs, knowing that the thought of fighting him off was only a vain hope.

A knock rang through the house, and in its every echo, I heard _Phil, Phil._ Charlie went to let Renee in, as I stood next to the stove, becoming aware of a fiery heat seeping into my arm.

"Ah!" I shouted, springing away from the stovetop, pulling my hand away from where I had unconsciously placed it on the stove's eye. I turned the water in the sink on and shoved my arm under it.

"Bella, what happened?" Renee asked, rushing into the room.

"Burned my arm." I said, the words barely discernable through my gritted teeth.

"How?"

"The stove." I mumbled, wincing as the freezing water pounded against my skin, "I put my hand on it by accident."

"Let me see." Renee said, walking over to me and examining my arm, flinging water all over herself in the process.

"How did you do that?" She demanded, eyes widening in horror, "It looks like you set your arm down and left it there."

The words sounded odd, like clouds, floating around my head. I wasn't totally sure what she was saying, or what it meant. Before I knew what was happening, I was being forced into a chair, my arm wrapped in layers of gauze. I realized that suddenly, I had no idea how I'd burnt myself, and it sent me into a panic.

I must have done it recently, because otherwise it wouldn't be throbbing so badly. There was a smell of something burning, and when Charlie caught a whiff of it, he hurriedly shut off the stove. The stove. That had something to do with my arm.

How could I forget this? It must be the drugs. Half of my brain was screaming relentlessly at me for having taken them, while the other half calmly told me that all was well; that people forgot things like this all the time. I sided with the calm side, and my panic was erased, replaced with the same floating feeling I'd had before.

I was in Renee's car—I didn't remember walking out there—I must have been lost in thought. (Or so high that I couldn't even see properly, the hysterical voice in my head suggested.)

"How was school?"

"Good." My brain was feeling hazed; all thought was slower, like an old computer.

"We have a room set up for you on the second floor." She told me, "The people that lived there before had a little boy, so it's blue, but we'll paint it soon. We've moved your dresser, bed, and clothes in there. I left those books on your bed—the ones in the box that fell on Phil's foot."

"Is it bothering him much? His foot, I mean."

"Yes. He's trying to get a temporary job at Newton's sporting goods store, because he can't play any baseball for a while, but it's been bothering him too much to even leave the house, let alone go to a job interview."

Good. He deserved it. The trees outside the window were fuzzy, as if they had been painted and then smudged by a careless artist. I didn't remember drugs ever affecting my vision before. But then, I'd been on them constantly, so it must have seemed normal then.

The car swiveled into the driveway, nearly decapitating the lopsided mailbox. I stiffened in my seat, grabbing the armrests and hoping Renee wouldn't get me killed.

"Bella, you look terrified." Renee laughed as the car slowed to a stop, six inches from the brick wall of the house.

"Your driving scares me." Were my words slurred? I couldn't tell, although I knew that something was wrong with the way I sounded. Renee gave me an odd look, but must have credited it to my assumed terror, because she elbowed me playfully, grinning as she climbed out of the car.

"How many times have I crashed with you in the car?"

"None…yet." I said, noticing that one of the side mirrors was missing, "Although you've obviously been getting into accidents when I'm not with you."

She rolled her eyes, disappearing behind a huge oak tree as she made her way towards the door. "Only once." She informed me.

Inside, the air carried a distinct scent of smoke. As I closed the door behind me, Phil's voice floated in from the other end of the house.

"Renee honey, I think the casserole is on fire."

Her eyes widened at this announcement, and she hurried over to the oven, grabbing an oven mitt off of the counter. She yanked the oven door open, freeing a cloud of smoke. She emerged from it with an aluminum pan, which she sat on the kitchen table, surveying it sadly. It was impossible to tell what it was made of, due to the fact that it was completely black.

"Well," I suggested, "I guess we could always call out for pizza."

Renee nodded, still staring gloomily at the black mass as she dialed the phone number.

A/N: More action coming in the next chapter, I promise.


	17. Chapter 18

The sky was impenetrably black outside my window, so dark that it seemed to be sapping the light from my room

A/N Hello. I'm really sorry for not updating, but my life has gone crazy. I've had a total of like, three hours free time in the last week, two of which were spent yesterday when I had an epiphany. I realized that I hated the story I was writing and started a new one; something that I'd been wanting to write for a while. So now, I'm back with my writing. The story's going to be reaching it's main climax soon (don't think like that. Get your minds out of the gutter) and the 'Kill Phil' Challenge winner will be written very soon.

EPOV

A knock echoed through my room, interrupting the music flowing out of the speakers.

_Edward, I need to talk to you._ Alice though. She was anxious about something.

"Come in."

The door squeaked open, and Alice stepped in, her expression somewhere between fury and hurt. "Edward, you're an idiot."

"What did I do?" Please let her have a real reason. Please don't let her be blaming me for something that Emmett did.

"You let her in my bathroom! By herself!" Alice hissed, "You're just asking for it, aren't you?"

The pieces weren't meshing right, like pieces of different puzzles crammed together, until a picture of an open medicine cabinet swept through Alice's thoughts. The plastic bag I'd put there was gone.

"Please tell me you're kidding." No, I couldn't have been that unobservant. I would have noticed. Surely, I would have heard her opening the cabinet's door.

"Sorry Ed. No such luck." Alice said solemnly. I bit back the retort that sprang to my mind at the nickname.

The piano. I'd been playing Esme's song. I hadn't been listening, and even if I had, I wouldn't have heard such a small noise compared to the piano's outpouring of music and the quiet sound of my fingers hitting the keys.

"I can't believe I didn't realize."

"You don't think—" Alice began, abruptly stopping. Her thoughts betrayed the words she didn't want me to discern. _Maybe she just used you to get the drugs back. _I felt my expression harden, and I fought through the possible reactions my brain was spewing, and managed, "Get. Out."

She nodded, about to leave, when her eyes went blank. Her feet lost their purchase on the ground, and she would have fallen if I hadn't caught her. The vision flashed through me, and I was still staring in horror when Jasper rushed into the room, picking Alice up and sitting down with her on the black couch in the center of the room.

"Alice honey? Are you alright?" She nodded, rubbing her forehead. "Edward? What's wrong? Alice, what'd you see?"

She didn't answer him, but looked towards me, composing herself, trying to make me calm down. "Edward—"

"I'm going over there. Now." By the time the last word was out of my mouth, I was out of the room. I flew down the stairs, wincing as one of them cracked beneath my feet. Despite Carlisle's call of, "Don't break the house, please." I didn't even turn around, but ran out of the house, down the long road.

BPOV

The sky was impenetrably black outside my window, so dark that it seemed to be sapping the light from my room. I was trying to concentrate on homework, but the words were waltzing across the pages, refusing to stand still. I glanced at the clock. Two forty-seven. I knew I should be sleeping, but I wasn't the least bit tired.

A knock resounded from the door, and encompassed in that single echoing tap was every ounce of fear I'd ever felt, come back to haunt me. I was frozen, unable to answer or answer the knock, reduced to sitting on the bed, staring at the tarnished bronze doorknob that I suddenly realized was the exact same shade as Edward's hair.

The doorknob disappeared as the door opened, slammed so hard against the wall that I couldn't imagine Renee waking up. Despite my certainty, there was no noise in the house but my panicked breath as I sat there, staring at a murderously angry Phil.

"Leave me alone." I said, hating myself for the shakiness that leaked into my voice.

"Leave you alone? Look what you've done. You broke my foot. You told Renee, didn't you?"

"No!" I squeaked, springing to my feet and backing against the cold window. I fumbled my fingers against the window's lock, hoping—no, more than hoping, praying—that it would open and I could escape through it, even if that meant falling from the second story.

"Have you told someone?"

Had to lie. He'd hurt Renee if I didn't. Had to lie. But his expression—he must already know. The fury wouldn't be present there if he didn't know. How had he found out? If he knew, I had to admit it. If I didn't…."Yes." I whispered.

My back was slammed against the wall next to the window, his fingers tightening around my throat. "Who?" He breathed, murder in his tone.

I shook my head as best I could. This was it. He was going to kill me, but I wasn't dragging anyone else down with me.

"Bella." He hissed dangerously, his other hand twisting painfully in my hair, "Tell me now."

"No." It was barely a sound, but it was the defiance in it that got to him. I was shoved to the ground, grinding my shoulder against a nightstand as I fell.

"You know what you are, Bella?" He asked, his tone of voice almost normal again, suggesting that he was not a deranged maniac, "You are a stupid, ignorant little whore who wants her mother dead. Is that what you are, Bella?"

The sobs ripped through me, blurring my vision and sending rivers down my cheeks. The window slammed open, and a bronze-haired person was suddenly there, crushing Phil against a wall, his furious face barely two inches from Phil's, eyes spitting sparks as he said, with a tone more venomous than any fatal poison, "Don't you dare say that to Bella."

They were both gone for a moment, before Edward sped back into the room, closing the door behind him. He crossed the room in a blur, coming to rest seated on the floor in front of me, stroking my sear-soaked hair out of my face.

"Bella, it's going to be okay. I'm not going to let him hurt you again, okay?" His eyes lighted on the bruises appearing on my neck and shoulder.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, my voice breaking, "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to, but I couldn't—" I stopped at the expression on his face, which was torn between anger and sadness.

"Why?"

"I don't know." I sobbed, painfully aware of how close I was to snapping, "I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop."

"There's always another choice." He said softly, giving the words an antique feel, making it obvious that he'd heard them a million times before. I didn't know what to say to that. The thing that was the most horrible was that I had been shown the other choice, seen that it was better, and then gone back to the worse path, the one that was going to hurt me.

"I'm sorry." I whispered again, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Bella, you have to stop." He told me, focusing his gaze at me, "This isn't just hurting you—you can't do this." He stroked his hand through my hair, stopping when I winced, a reaction conditioned by Phil's treatment.

"Will you take them back? Please?" I asked, my hand straying towards my purse, which lay on the floor, barely out of reach of my wandering arm. Edward saw what I was getting at and handed it to me. My fingers fumbled on the zipper, but slowly, it opened. I reached into the bottom, where I'd hidden the drugs. The plastic bag burned against my fingertips like poison. I yanked it out of the purse and shoved it at Edward, who took it.

"Thank you, Bella." He said, squeezing the bag, reducing the pills to dust.

"I'm sorry I did it." I said again, feeling an unfamiliar sense of comfort as I looked at him. I felt…safe. That was the right word. "I didn't want to do it, but…I'm not sure what happened, exactly. I think I just lost it for a minute, but I felt so guilty…"

"I forgive you." He said softly, and the words hit me deeper than anything else he could have said. In that moment, I felt free from not only betraying him, but from everything else I'd ever done or thought was my fault—the way Phil acted, the fact that I was an addict. Somehow those three words forgave me for everything.

I leaned towards him, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. "Thank you."

A/N SO, I've been gone from the updating club for about two weeks, and I'm really, really sorry. I've been reading the Host, which is fabulous, writing other stories, studying for exams, and having a random panic attack about nothing about every ten seconds. Pretty much everything but fanfictioning. I apologize, and I promise to do better. My next chapter is already half finished.


	18. Chapter 19

"Phil

A/N I promise I'll update more, really. I've been studying, doing math (yay limits! Yay logs! Yay sines, cosines, and trigonometry in general! Yay for you if you know what I'm talking about!) and deliberating whether to quit band, so I've been under a lot of stress and having constant panic attacks due to the fact that I haven't had time to write.

Also, congratulations to Edwardlover1 on your baptism, and you rock! My sister from another mister!

"Interesting," Edward said with a slight smile as I described the scene I'd woken up to this morning.

"Interesting isn't the right word. Hilarious, maybe. Renee almost had a heart attack, and Phil was being…Phil. I think he told her that he tripped down the stairs while he was going to get a glass of water from downstairs," I told him, wincing as I thought of the shocked yell that had dragged me from sleep. Renee had been in absolute hysterics, unable to figure out where he'd gone, then unable to figure out how he'd gotten where he was.

"I should have stayed," he said wistfully, turning his face from the road to grin at me.

"Actually, I think Renee would have had a cow," I said, imagining with horror Renee walking into my room to find Edward there. It would have been even worse this morning, with her heightened state of panic. I could just see her trying to put him in a headlock.

"You say that as if I'd alert her to my presence."

I shrugged, resisting the wild urge to laugh or whoop or something equally joyful that I'd never had reason to do before now. This morning, Phil had steered completely clear of me, not bothering with his friendly façade. With any luck, he'd be staying away from me for a long time.

"You should have me over for dinner," he mused, a crooked smile playing across his face, "I'd scare him to death. Right now, he's still trying to convince himself that it's a dream, but if I showed up at his house…" He let the words trail away.

"He might report you though," I pointed out, "You _did_ attack him."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Consider the circumstances. Think about what he was _doing_ when I attacked him. He deserved worse, actually. Emmett was furious with me; said I should have killed him."

"I wouldn't want him dead," I said quietly. Horrible as he was, maybe even evil, he didn't deserve to have the full power of Edward's strength tested on him.

"Of course not." He looked over at me again, his expression flipping to anger when he saw my neck. This morning, I'd noticed the bruises there, splotched across the skin. Concealer had covered most of the marks, but not thoroughly enough for Edward's eyes not to notice. He took a deep breath as he turned back to the road, straining to keep his emotions in check. Thank God it was too cold to even consider wearing shorts. Anything that showed the skin above my knee would have flaunted the other bruises that the nightstand had inflicted, far worse than the discoloration along my neck.

"So," I said, more to break the silence than anything else, "Do you want to come over for dinner? Give Phil a run for his money?"

He grinned in anticipation. "Sure. It'll be the most fun I've had in years."

"Hey, Mom?" I said. It had taken almost an hour to work up the courage to tell her about Edward. I had the strangest feeling that the second I said, "Edward Cullen," she would know that it was he who had attempted to maim Phil. But of course, that didn't make any sense.

"Uh-huh?" She said, frowning at the cookie tray she had set on the oven's eye. The cookies, which had promised to be foolproof, were burnt black. The only thing they could have been used for was charcoal.

"I invited someone over for dinner," I said, focusing on the grain of the wood in the kitchen table, pretending that I was talking to it rather than my mother.

"Really?" She said, surprise coloring her voice, "Who?"

"Uh…Edward Cullen."

Her head jerked up from her careful examination of the cookies, crashing into an open cabinet. "A boy?"

"No, a girl, because, you know, there are so many of us named Edward." My sarcasm didn't mar her enthusiasm, and she went bounding off into the kitchen, calling for Phil. I followed, cautious of what she was going to tell him. Although, I realized, she didn't have anything _to_ tell, other than the bare facts.

"Bella has a boyfriend," Renee announced, interrupting Phil's obsessive baseball-watching.

"Huh?"

"Yes! Edwin Cullen, and—"

"Edward, Mom," I corrected quietly, "And he's not really my boyfriend."

"Not _really_?" Phil asked, with a condescending tone and furrowed forehead that reminded me of Charlie, "What does 'not really' mean?"

I shrugged, but before I got a chance to say anything, Renee was behind me, giving my shoulders a motherly squeeze, talking a mile a minute. "I'll have to take pictures; I can use them in my scrapbook, and—" Thankfully, the doorbell interrupted her.

"I'll get it," I offered, before Renee was given the chance to.

Edward's face was murky through the panes of glass set into the door, and more brooding than usual. His expression lightened when he saw me, changing into his ridiculously charming smile.

"Hey," he said after I'd opened the door, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. A light flashed, and Edward pulled away, confused. Understanding dawned on his face when he saw Renee, clutching her camera like a baby.

_Sorry_, I mouthed, but he looked more amused than irritated. Renee went rushing into the living room, presumably to drag Phil in here.

"I'd just like you to know, I'm not responsible for any permanently scarring events you experience this evening," I said, a perfect disclaimer. For good measure, I added, "And if vampires _don't _show up in photos, you might want to steal Renee's camera." Edward smirked, fighting back a laugh.

Phil came into the foyer, trailing from Renee's hand. His eyes bugged when he saw Edward, and his mouth fell open.

"Phil, this is Edward. Edward, here's Phil. Bella's stepfather." Renee said, blissfully unaware of their conflicting interests, Phil's being to run far, far away from Edward; Edward's being to rip off Phil's head. But neither of them acted on their desires; Edward calmly extended his hand and said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Dwyer."


	19. The demise of one of the characters

"Phil

A/N: So…really haven't got much to say…I think I'll do a disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all characters, although I hope to one day dominate the world solely for the purpose of buying them from her. Mostly Edward and Jacob though.

"So," Phil said, in an awkward attempt to move conversation along, "what do your parents do?"

"My dad works at the hospital." Edward said evenly, "I think he did your cast. Mom doesn't work."

The clatter of forks against plates was the only noise, until Edward spoke up again several minutes later. "I'm not trying to be nosy, but your forehead—it looks like you might need stitches."

Phil raised his hand to his face, tracing the gash, a direct product of his tumble down the stairs. It was the first comment Edward had made that referenced the previous night, and it kicked Phil's paranoia up to the highest level. His fingers curled tightly around the fork in his hand, as though he was about to stab Edward with it.

"Yes," Phil growled, "I might." His eyes bored into Edward's head. I could only imagine the thoughts spinning through his head. Edward was holding back a smirk, twirling his fork across the plate, cutting the food into smaller and smaller pieces.

EPOV

_How he got in her room…_ Phil thought, stabbing a French fry, _he threw me down the stairs! But I can't report him, no…._ His eyes flickered over to Bella, who was giving me a sideways grin.

"So," I asked, trying to spark more of Phil's memories, "Why didn't you all move up here at the same time, instead of separately?"

"Well, we wanted to send Bella up here, because…well, just because. And then, I missed her so much, and Phil got a job offer in Seattle. He'll have to wait until his foot heals, though, but in the meantime, it's nice to be able to spend time with my two favorite people," Renee said, smiling between Phil and Bella.

Oh, if only she knew. She had no idea what her husband was really like, did she?

"Bella!" Renee said, noticing for the first time, "What did you do to your neck?" Bella's eyes widened, flickering to me for an explanation.

_I could blame him,_ Phil realized, _I could say that he did it to her, and get him in prison, than I'd be safe. Nobody would believe a criminal._

At the same time, Bella, in her surprise, dropped her knife. It slid through her fingers, carving a slit into her index finger. Renee barely had time to ask her what was wrong before her scent filled the room, freesia and lavender, trying to force me to leap over the table, to bite—no! I got up from the table, not bothering to excuse myself.

The air outside of the house was clear, calming. I breathed in deeply, letting the absence of Bella's scent wash through me. It was okay. I wouldn't be killing anyone, except maybe Phil.

"Bella," Renee asked later, scrubbing the rim of a plate, "What _did_ happen to your neck?" Her tone was low, worried. Phil, watching baseball in the living room, couldn't hear it.

Bella glanced towards me again, trying to buy time. "Well, I was walking down the stairs and—"

"I think you should tell her." I said, avoiding the horrified stare I knew Bella was giving me. My eyes were focused on the towel I was rubbing on a cup; I'd been given the job of drying,

"Tell me what?" Renee asked, at the same time Bella hissed, "Edward!"

I wished I could erase the hurt from her eyes, or at least explain what Phil would do if Bella didn't talk to Renee before he got the chance. Running out of the kitchen had been risky enough; Phil could have lied then, without my having a chance to fix things first.

"I just think it's a good idea." I mumbled, unsure of what I was saying for the first time in years. Had I said something wrong? This was best, wasn't it?

"Bella, what's going on?" Tears were starting in Bella's eyes now, torn in an expression somewhere between fear and betrayal. I crossed the kitchen in two strides, wrapping my arms around her waist. She was in tears now. Her knees shuddered beneath her, and I was the only thing holding her up.

"It's okay Bella, you can tell her. I promise, I won't let him hurt you." I assured her. Renee was staring at us, utterly confused.

_What on earth?_ She thought, _He shouldn't be touching her like that….Him? Who is _him_? Charlie? Oh no, Bella's pregnant, isn't she? That's why she had him over for dinner, because—_

"It's Phil." Bella said. I felt a surge of pride at the resolution etched into her voice.

"What about him?"

"He's—" She choked out, fighting through the tears, "Edward, help me."

"The bruises," I explained, to Renee's horror, "They're from Phil."

"What?" Renee hissed, her voice like the crack of a bullwhip. Her eyes shot darts at me, begging for more information, "He wouldn't! He couldn't have—"

"He did," Bella said, straightening up a little, though still mostly supported by me, "And he would have done more."

Her mother's eyes were bugging out of her head now, shocked that her husband would be capable of such violence. "How did he get at the bottom of the stars?" She asked, trying to keep herself grounded with questions.

"I pushed him," Bella told her, "I caught him off guard, and he tripped. The door wasn't completely closed, and he fell backwards through it, and down the stairs."

Renee's hands were shaking badly. "Thank you for telling me. Bella. Edward."

"I should probably go." Bella and her mother needed to talk, alone. "I'll be back," I told Bella, so that only she could hear.

"What are you doing here?" Alice demanded, standing up from the front porch and stalking towards me, "You're supposed to be at Bella's!"

"I came back to drop off my car, and I'm going right back over there. We tolld Renee about—"

"I know what you told Renee!" Alice shrieked, drawing Jasper onto the porch.

"Alice? Is everything—"

"No! No, no, no! Edward, you shouldn't have left that house! Do you have any idea what Phil's going to _do_?" Images flashed through my head, showing Renee on the floor, blood pooling on the floor around her head, a deathly halo. Bella, hiding, pressed against the thin walls of her closet.

"He can't!" I protested.

"Don't you get it, Edward? He _is_. Right now. We have to do something."

I was barely aware of Jasper behind me as I ran, and even less of the car starting. Bella. I had to get to Bella.

By the time I had reached the tall, ghostly house, Jasper had caught up to me and relayed Alice's plan. First, get Bella and Renee out of there; I would do that part. Jasper would restrain Phil, mostly because it mattered less if Phil got hurt. Alice, driving behind us, would be there by then, and would serve a double role by transporting Bella and her mother away while calling Charlie to arrest Phil. But Alice's vision had come too late, and our feet moved just barely too slow.

A shot rang from the house. Blood spattered the living room window, and a shadowy figure fell, writhing in pain, to the ground.

"Edward! No!" Jasper hissed as I went flying past him, through the blood-painted window. I landed just in front of Phil, whose hand was still outstretched towards the place where Renee had stood, his fingers curled around a gun.

I let him shoot me, once, so that I could enjoy his fear, watched his expression turn from triumphant to terrified when he saw me still standing in front of him, still perfectly healthy. Then my hand shot out towards him, twisting as it hit his chest. I could feel ribs snap, and he was thrown against the opposite wall, his heart making a feeble attempt to beat.

The three seconds it took me to reach Bella's room were the longest I'd ever experienced. All the pain and fear of my transformation were overshadowed by that tiny amount of time when I though Bella, my Bella, was dead.

She wasn't in the room. "Bella!" I shouted, before remembering Alice's vision. The closet. I wrenched its door open. Half hidden by clothes was Bella's tear-streaked face. She fell towards me, sobbing against my chest.

"Renee confronted him," She said, barely coherent, "and he got angry. He got his gun. We have to find her, before Phil hurts her."

"Bella," I said slowly, as gently as possible, "Renee is dead."

A/N. Yeah…sorry. That was evil of me. I won't be updating until next Tuesday at the earliest. No chance of an earlier update, because I'll be in the woods with no computer. But, I will promise that the Kill Phil challenge winner entry will be posted very soon. Sorry. I just haven't had time.


	20. Chapter 20

"Phil

Sorry it's taken me so long. I'm back…I think…for a while.

"What happened to him?" The voice asked. Was it a woman asking? A man? There was a haze over me, clouding my understanding. The only thing I was completely aware of was Edward, his fingers combing through my hair, his arms wrapped around me, holding me together.

"Can't you ask her later?" Edward snapped, his voice low and terse. He pulled me closer, pressing my face against his chest, so that I didn't have to look at the woman.

"Look, Mr.—" The policewoman—it was a woman, I realized now—said irritably.

"Cullen," Edward supplied, his voice edged with iron.

"Mr. Cullen, Chief Swan wasn't on call tonight, I was, and this is a big case. He's going to be down here any minute now, and when he hears that his ex-wife—" She cut off, silenced by something in Edward's expression. "We need the information, and we need it before Charlie gets down here and has a heart attack."

"She can't answer your questions right now. Wait until he wakes up. He'll explain everything to you." Edward jerked his chin towards the flashing ambulance holding Phil. The ambulance with Renee had already driven away. If they'd put them in the same vehicle, I thought, Phil might have woken up and finished Renee off. Of course, Edward had said she was dead, but that couldn't be right.

"Raines!" Charlie echoed over the lawn, "What is going on here?"

"We've got one dead, one injured and one too stunned to talk," the woman said in a clipped tone. There was that word again; dead. But Renee—she couldn't be. She'd been just fine half an hour ago.

"Bella?" Charlie said, his voice twisted, as though he was speaking to me through a pipe.

CPOV (twenty minutes earlier)

Football had an uncanny ability to entrance me. Something about the field and the twenty-two uniforms rushing around it managed to distract me from everything else. Thank God I wasn't on call tonight. If anything happened, Susan Raines and Anthony Clearwater were the ones that would be called in.

I yawned, letting the television suck me in, and, with uncannily good timing, the phone went off at the exact same time that ESPN cut to commercial.

"Hello, Swan residence, Charlie here." I said lazily, watching a mother and son arguing over the son's cell phone bill.

"This is Anthony. You need to get down here now—you know that new house on Gaffney Street? The two-story?"

I jolted out of my chair, rushing for my boots. Bella. "Yeah, 1478 Gaffney Street. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

For the first time, I was able to perceive Forks as being too big. Fifteen minutes wasn't fast enough, not when Bella or Renee could be in danger. I could have cared less about Phil, but if anything had happened to Bella, I would never forgive myself.

Two ambulances flew past me as I neared the house. My heart fluttered, beating a terrified tattoo against my ribcage. Two out of three, there was a two out of three chance that Bella was hurt, if not greater.

The house was surprisingly dark, and the yard was dotted with cars—two police, one Bella's truck, and a silver car I didn't recognize. I light flew on in the top floor, illuminating the three figures on the porch. My breath let out in a sigh of relief when I saw Bella, pressed against the Cullen boy, Edward. Raines, was standing next to them, hands on her hips, saying something to Edward, who seemed to be getting angry with her.

"Raines," I shouted, trying to keep the panic out of my voice, "What is going on here?"

Her eyes widened as she looked up at me, but her words were just as calm and clear-cut as ever. "We've got one dead, one injured, and one too stunned to talk," She told me, jerking her head towards Bella.

"Bella?" I asked, kneeling down so that I was at eye level with her. She was terrified; what had happened? Her arms were curled around her chest, and her face was contorted with horror.

"Edward, what's going on? What did you do to her?" I demanded coldly. His expression flashed, anger boiling in his eyes.

"I saved her life. You want to know what happened, wait until Phil's conscious and ask him, because he was the one that shot—" Bella turned her face towards him curiously, and he cut off, but I could do the math. Bella stunned, Phil injured. That only left one outcome for Renee. She was dead. I shook my head fiercely.

"No," I protested. Edward pulled Bella back so that she couldn't see me. If there was anything that would have made her feel worse right now, it was seeing me have a meltdown. I took a deep breath, forcing my emotions back. Bella needed to get out of here. First order of business.

"Edward, I need you to find somewhere for Bella to go so that—"

"Done. I'll take her to our house; she can stay in Alice's room." I was too shocked to realize the possible moral flaws in his idea, and nodded.

BPOV

"_Bella! Help!" Renee called. I rolled my eyes, stood up from my desk, and made my way through piles of books into the kitchen where Renee stood with an oven mitt, furiously fanning the oven._

"_Mom, you were supposed to bake the cookies for eight minutes, not forty!" I said, jerking the oven mitt away from her and yanking the blackened pieces of dough from the oven's inferno._

_She took a metal spatula from a drawer and scraped a cookie from the pan. Thoughtfully, she took a bite, and immediately burst into a coughing fit._

"_Mom!" I shrieked, jerking the cookie away from her and throwing it in the trash, "Are you okay?"_

"_Fabulous," She wheezed, "Just ingesting some good 'ol carcinogens. If that didn't give me cancer, I don't know what will."_

"_You're not supposed to eat black cookies," I said irritably, scraping the rest of the tray into the garbage._

"_C'mon Bells. If you don't try some black cookies, you'll never know what they taste like. Be spontaneous, enjoy life a little."_

_I sighed. Mom didn't get it. "Guess what, Bella?" She said excitedly, and the sparkle in her eye made it impossible to stay annoyed, "I met someone. His name is Phil, and I think you're really going to like him."_

Just the memory of his name jerked me back into consciousness, making me roll off of the couch, screaming in terror. I didn't hit the ground; stone arms caught me and set me back on the cushions.

"Oh. Hi, Edward," I said, opening my eyes. He was sitting on the ground next to the couch, watching me worriedly.

"You were talking in your sleep," He told me, fidgeting with the gold carpet, "About…Phil."

I shuddered. It occurred to me to wonder what I was doing here. I had no memory of arriving at the Cullens'. "Edward, how did I get to your house?"

"I drove you."

"You told him Alice's room," I protested, easing myself into a sitting position.

"Technically," He corrected, "I told him you _could_ sleep in Alice's room, not that you were going to. Not that we were doing anything objectionable—"

"Phil," I interrupted. I had to say this while I still had the courage to. "Is he at the hospital?"

Edward nodded. "Alice wanted to go in there and finish him off, but I thought it would be better for him to get a life sentence."

"Do you think," I said, my voice low and pleading, "that we could go and talk to him?"

Edward's eyes widened. "Bella, that's not a good—"

"Edward, it's something I need to do. He killed my mother."


	21. Angels

Renee

Renee

It was strange how all of a sudden, I understood things. The threads of the universe were splayed out below me, the tiny threads of lives crisscrossing into an intricate tapestry. There was Bella's, right there, a barely visible ivory at first, then later on, a deep crimson; it seemed never-ending, as was the one intertwined with it--_Edward's. _I jumped; the knowledge had leapt into my head, seemingly randomly, but the longer I frowned at the golden strand, the more I knew that my intuition was correct.

Phil was dead too. Or maybe he wasn't, not quite yet, but he would be soon. Time didn't seem to work the same way here; this web seemed to know exactly what would happen when, but at any rate, Phil's demise came shortly after mine. Good, I thought, jerking my chin into one quick nod—the motion sent me spinning, twirling the network of strings into a colorful kaleidoscope. I jolted to a stop in mid-air—it was then that I realized that I hadn't been touching the ground in the first place—stopped by a pair of arms.

Isn't it funny how sometimes you dread something all your life—take death, for example—but when you actually get to it, it isn't bad? It was warm here, a golden glowing warm, and there were angels—I knew there were, because who else but an angel could have such a brilliant face as the man beside me?

He smiled at me and took my hand. "Everything will be alright now," he told me, with a voice like the sun; strong, bright, beautiful. And he led me away from the web, to a place where everyone who had left me so long ago was waiting for me.

A/N: Yes, I know it's short, but more is coming in about an hour. I didn't want to tack another POV onto this chapter; I like it really well by itself.


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